


Out by the Root

by Queenietae6789



Category: Taennie - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:00:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 21,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27789394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenietae6789/pseuds/Queenietae6789
Summary: When Jennie witnesses a murder, her entire world, and her mental health, is thrown into absolute turmoil. Adamant to prove that what she saw was real, she works alongside handsome detective, Kim Taehyung, and her therapist, to bring the truth of what had happened to light.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	1. Jennie

The early morning light filtered into the bedroom, casting it in a deep indigo glow. Jennie stirred awake, skin sticky with a coat of warm sweat, the sheer duvet clinging to her dimpled flesh as she pushed the blankets back from her torso. Her lips were chapped. She knew she hadn’t slept properly either, the fourth night in a row. The alarm clock on her night stand told her that it was just after six a.m.   
The chaos that the kitchen was in didn’t stop a groggy Jennie from searching through the cupboards noisily in search of a glass. A mug toppled out of the cupboard and struck the side of the countertop, shattering across the marble floor in smithereens. The noise made Jennie flinch, but her exhausted brain didn’t register that she’d have to clean it up in the next few hours - IF she even went back to bed at this rate. She filled a glass with water from the sink and then headed to the patio, stepping out into the warped wooden balcony in bare feet. Placing a cigarette between her lips she fixed her gaze on the slowly rising sun on the horizon - a glistening golden orb emerging from a cloak of navy cloud above the skyline of the city - one that seemed to offer up a magnificent palette of colours that only Jennie was privy to, and it made her prolonged insomnia bearable, even if it was fleeting in its relief. A look to her right was enough to bring her crashing back down to earth, and she found herself overcome with an intolerable chill as the cracked memories came flooding back to her. 

The glass breaking, and screams that you’d only hear in the latest horror movies. A disturbing thump against the wall, followed by two sickening crunches and then silence. And Jennie saw it all. She was the one who called the police, alerted the authorities and the other residences that lived above and below her in the apartment complex. She had seen the blood, the pallid corpse, and the perpetrator scaling the outside of the balcony downwards, keen to make a swift escape. Jennie didn’t know the victim, but she knew, she just KNEW, that a woman similar in age to herself, lived in apartment 29, despite what the authorities, the detectives had told her during the investigation. 

That nobody lived in that apartment, and nobody had done since the renovation of the building five years prior.


	2. Jennie

The soles of Jennie’s shoes scuffed the ground d beneath her noisily, as she shuffled her way through the busy streets, vision blurring the longer she stared straight ahead. She blinked twice before widening her eyes as big they as they’d go, desperate to stay awake and alert. The sound of a car squealing to a halt followed by a cry of outrage caused her anxiety to shoot up into the base of her skull before plummeting into the depths of her stomach. A sharp flashback to the murder scene freaked her out, and in a panicked dash she sprinted the rest of the way to her therapist’s office, not looking back when she rammed shoulders with other onlookers and passerby’s in her haste to get to safety. Away from the eyes of nosy people and the ghost of a murder that she was convinced had occurred. 

Without knocking, Jennie walked into the small consultation room, much to the dismay of her therapist, Namjoon and one of his other clients, a girl with dark hair and chunky glasses. Without flinching Namjoon turned towards the door.  
“Can you give us a moment, Jennie?”  
Jennie balked, her tired brain processing the command word by word. Painfully slow. Namjoon’s client shot Jennie an impatient glare.  
“Uh, yes. I’m sorry” Jennie stammered, pulling the door closed quickly to save herself any more humiliation. She dropped into the blue plastic chair outside the room, legs aching from the ten minute walk it took to get here. She contemplated leaving, skipping out on her appointment and promising Namjoon she’d pay him next time round. But she knew that if she left now, she wouldn’t be inclined to return, and then what would she do without his signature on her recurring prescription? No. She decided to sit through the hour and get on with it instead. 

“Have you been sleeping?”  
Jennie dragged her heavy eyes across the roll to land on Namjoon’s chest, the corners of her eyes watering the longer she stared. She wasn’t aware of the chair beneath her.  
“No”  
Namjoon made a note of that. The scratch of the pen across the page rang too loud in Jennie’s ears.  
“Has the eszopiclone been helping?”  
“Kind of”  
“Kind of?”  
“No”  
“What so you mean by kind of, Jennie ?”  
“Sometimes I sleep, sometimes I don’t”  
“Do you need a higher dose?”  
Jennie nodded.  
“Yes or no, Jennie”  
“Yes”  
Namjoon pulled a prescription sheet out of the briefcase at his feet, scribbling the necessary details down before signing off with a flourish. He handed the page to Jennie, who misjudged the distance, once again, letting the page flutter to the carpet in silence. She could feel Namjoon’s eyes on her. Slowly she bent to retrieve the page, folding it and tucking it into the pocket of her jacket without a word.  
Namjoon sat back, the leather seat squeaking as he settled his form into the cushion.  
“Let’s discuss the dreams you’ve been having?”  
“I don’t remember them”  
“How are you managing your anxiety?”  
“Fine”, Jennie croaked, speaking on autopilot. She fixed her eyes on the clock. “I smoke”.  
“Cigarettes?”  
“Sometimes”  
“Marijuana?”  
“I guess”  
“I see”.  
Namjoon made further note of Jennie’s condition in his notebook, corners of his mouth downturned slightly as he summarised the session into words. They exchanged glances briefly before Jennie looked away, curling her fingers into fists once the familiar sensation of discomfort set in.  
“I’m going to have to increase our sessions to twice weekly Jennie, as I am greatly concerned over your possible marijuana use”.  
“Is that so?”  
“As your therapist, yes”.  
“I can’t afford it”.  
“I’ll organise a more affordable plan for you during the week, and then we can discuss it in our next session”.  
“Fine”.

With the prescription in hand, Jennie entered her local pharmacy with a sense of urgency in her step. She balked when she witnessed the queue for the dispensary, and it took everything her tired brain could muster not to kick and scream and throw an angry fit then and there. She tagged along at the back, moving from foot to foot the longer she had to wait. She noticed the security guard at the door staring at her with brows furrowed. The line moved in swift succession, and the closer Jennie came to achieving some form of relief from her insomniatic purgatory, she more irritable she became.  
“Eszopiclone, please”, she said, slamming the prescription down on the counter with a bang.  
The pharmacist frowned, peering at Jennie over the rim of her glasses.  
“Name?”  
So many fucking questions.  
“Jennie”.  
“Jennie Kim?”  
“Yes”.  
Taking the prescription off the counter, the pharmacist disappeared into the back, and by this time Jennie had lost her patience.  
“Can you please hurry?”, she yelled into the back of the shop, ignoring the glares and looks of disdain she received from other customers and staff. She banged on the counter impatiently, feeling a throb at the front of her head as her brain began to eat itself with exhaustion. Turning she saw the security guard make his way from the front of the shop to the till, hands out, ready to apprehend Jennie should she try anything drastic. The pharmacist returned with a pot of white pills, a copy of her prescription and a small warning card.  
“Don’t exceed fine recommended dose” she warned, tapping on the till to tally the purchase.  
Jennie paid, and then left the shop, teeth chattering as she ran for her bus, refusing to acknowledge the violent bout of dizziness that nearly sent her out on to the middle of the road.


	3. Taehyung

Thump!”.  
Taehyung glanced up, startled at the noise. A flood of irritation settled in his gut at the sudden interruption, finding the stress of the day had already caught up to him. A junior detective had dropped a stack of dog eared case files down on the small square of space left on Taehyung’s desk with a note that said “ EVALUATE AND WRITE UP”! He rolled his eyes, shooing the junior employee away with a dismissive wave of his hand.  
Phones shrilled in the background, and two burly police officers sauntered past him, coffees in hand. Speaking of which, his was getting cold in the corner of his crowded desk. The Homicide & Crime Investigation department was the busiest sector of the Bayside federal bureau, and it was seldom that Taehyung got a day off, if ever. The phone rang. He answered on the first ring, relaying the professional greeting that he knew off verbatim and could easily recite in his sleep. It was a senior officer inquiring about the progress of a case that had occurred in the North side of the city two weeks prior. Taehyung explained the situation and apologised for the delay. All in a days work. 

The hours rolled on into late evening, and Taehyung rubbed at this eyes roughly, fighting away sleep as best he could. He sipped at this cooling coffee, his fifth cup of the day. He had made a hefty dent in the stack of new case files, but if he stared at his computer screen for a moment longer he’d go insane. Finishing up his final review and report of the day, he closed the file, shut off his computer and then sat back in his seat, eyeing the last two files in front of him. It was the last one that caught his eye. The phone rang once again.  
“Hello. Homicide”.  
“Detective, I’m following up on that murder case file from December of last year. If you have reviewed it can you send it upstairs, please”.  
“Sure”  
Flagging down a fellow detective on his way out of the office, Taehyung asked him to bring the completed files up to the main boardroom, offering to buy lunch in return for his colleague’a help.  
He flicked open the last file, frowning at the severe lack of evidence, statements or investigative progress that was in it. The case was titled, “Disappearance of Somin Jeon, 12-7-20”. He grimaced at the sight of two blurry crime scene photographs, one of a butchered abdomen that appeared to be female, and the other of a face that had been beaten out of recognition. There was one note, with illegible hand writing and the name and number of the only witness. Taehyung got up and approached his manager’s office, keen to get some clarity on this strange and unexplainable case. 

He knocked once.  
“Come in”.  
His boss, Dt SuperIntendant Milton Lancaster, was lounging in his seat, computer buzzing with muted news reports. The window was open. His glasses sat atop his balding head, and he looked just as exhausted as Taehyung felt.  
“You’re still here”, Lancaster remarked.  
“Yes, Sir. I have a question about a specific case file?”  
“Which one?”  
“Somin Jeon”.  
Lancaster froze. “Where did you get that file?”.  
“It was dropped at my desk for review, sir”.  
“Leave it”, Lancaster snapped. “The case went cold about six months ago. You won’t find anything”.  
Taehyung cleared his throat. “I was surprised to see that there was no witness statement included in the file”.  
“That’s because there was no witness, no body, no blood, nothing that would be legally accepted as evidence of any crime having occurred”.  
“There was a witness”.  
Taehyung opened the file and shifted through the documents in it, running a finger under the name he was looking for. “A Ms Jennie Kim?”  
At this revelation, his boss whirled on him. “Look, you’re wasting your time and mine looking into a case that doesn’t even exist”, he growled. “Jennie Kim is about as reliable as a snake, and we didn’t follow up on her claims at the time, because no murder ever took place”  
Taehyung balked. “So, you’re saying she imagined it?”.  
“That’s exactly what I’m saying”.  
“But these crime scene photos, they -“,  
“Were falsified so that we could keep her happy, make her think we were carrying out an investigation when there was none. The girl is crazy”.  
“But that’s illegal”.  
“Let me tell you something, detective”, Lancaster said, voice chillingly low. “It’s time you start discerning between real cases that need to be solved, and ones that are nothing but a fantasy story, okay? We did what we had to do, understand?”  
“Message received”,  
“Good”, Lancaster said, his round face breaking out into a forced smile. “You have a good weekend now, detective”. 

Slipping the file into his satchel, Taehyung grabbed his trench coat off the hanger by the door and left the office without a word, lighting a cigarette as he danced down the steps and onto the busy street, an undecipherable niggling in his gut telling him that there was something wrong, something sinister occurring behind the scenes, and he didn’t like it. 

When he got home that night he made the conscious decision to contact the Head of Forensics, eager to get to the bottom of the shady photographs in the file before he made moves to locate the witness.


	4. Somin

The apartment was cold when Somin returned home after work, and she coolant help but feel a sharp pang of home sickness as she stepped into the hallway, the pile of moving boxes stacked against the wall to her left exacerbating her underlying unhappiness at being away from her sister and sickly mother. Moving to the coffee table she squatted down and opened up her laptop, growing increasingly frustrated at the terrible internet connection, clicking the Skype app three times before it would load up fully, and by the time that happened, she had talked herself out of making the call, choosing to go to bed instead since she was working double shifts. The apartment was cold, and the grumble in her stomach reminded her that she had forgotten to fill the fridge with new groceries. Instant ramen wasn't going to get her by for much longer. She clicked the call button on Skype before taking her laptop to the kitchen island, setting it down carefully on the countertop. The ringtone filled the silence as she went about heating the water for her noodles, until it died again, signaling that there was nobody at home to answer her call. She tried again. It wasn't like her sister not to answer.   
Another failed attempt later, and Somin took her noodles to the couch and slumped into the dirty cushions. The noodles had little flavour. Her phone rang.   
‘Hello?”  
‘Hi, I’m calling from Fab Furnishings in regards to the new nightstand and armchair you ordered?”  
‘Uh, yes?”  
‘Well, we are having trouble with the delivery process due to high demand and therefore we will not be able to deliver your items to you until this time next month at the latest”  
‘What? You're kidding?”  
‘I’m afraid not, ma’am”.  
‘That’s ridiculous, I paid extra to have them delivered as priority items”.  
‘I can understand your disappointment, ma’am”.  
‘So what are you going to do about it?”  
‘We can cancel your order now, and if you want to purchase any other item, you can do so on our website”  
At that, Somin hung up, tossing her phone across the room in a bout of irritation. Fuck this place.

Tearing open the first box on the pile at the door, Somin pulled back the flaps to reveal her old bedroom apparatus; her favourite blanket, followed by plushie toys she's had since she was a child and could never sleep without. They offered her some comfort, seeing them again, and taking them into the bedroom she felt suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. The next box had clothes in it, features such as bodysuits, tops and denim pieces, a style that was her staple back in college. At the bottom of the box were photographs of her alma mater, and it was bittersweet spotting herself amongst her friends clad in caps and graduation gowns. She placed the photos on the coffee table and by her bedside. The third box was full of her old potted plants and some outdoor decorations and, thrilled to finally have a balcony of her own, Somin stepped outside, the noise of the city beyond the complex walls, deafening. Car horns blared and trucks and heavy good vehicles trundled through the traffic like military tanks. The apartments across from her were alive, in one building there was a party in full swing, and below that there was a couple getting intimate on the couch. Somin glanced away, a blush appearing on her cheeks. Intimacy made her uncomfortable. She placed her potted plants in the railing shelf, setting them out one by one. Her aloe vera plant required a good dose of water, the leaves drooping over the side of the pot like a deflated balloon. Activity from her left side made her glance over at the balcony next to her, and she froze in her tracks. The girl who lived in apartment 28 stood out on the board, barefoot. A thin trail of smoke spilled out of the end of her cigarette like a whisper. She had dark hair and a serious expression. Somin felt a flutter in the depths of her gut. She watched the girl’s eyes land on the couple having sex in the apartment across and below them, yet she seemed enthralled by the show, not a shred of embarrassment marred her visage, a complete contrast to the difficult emotions Somin felt at such a carnal scene. Sensing someone was watching her, the girl threw a curious gaze over at her, and the sudden eye contact made Somin cringe. She disappeared back inside, retrieving water from the sink with shaking hands. Emerging onto the balcony a second time, she doused her plants with the liquid, unsure of where to look, the awkwardness from the encounter before lingering in her mind as she went about her tasks. As she turned to go back inside, she noticed that the girl from apartment 28 was no longer there. 

That same evening, Somin was murdered.


	5. Taehyung

‘New case”.  
‘You’re kidding?”  
‘Nope”  
Taehyung eyed the case file warily. It was 15 pages thick.   
‘Looks like theres already been an investigation carried out?”  
His partner, Hoseok Jung shook his head.  
‘Yeah, you’d think”  
‘What are we looking at?”  
‘We think it was a double murder”  
‘But its not?”  
‘Take a look for yourself”  
Taehyung dragged the file towards him, and flicked it open deftly. He analysed the crime scene photographs, of bullet fragments on the carpet next to the bodies. Black pools of liquid swam across the images. Two statements from the detectives who worked the case at the time made up for the bulk of the file. There was no arrest made, and the perpetrator had not been located yet. The victims, two Thai nationals, were Lisa Manoban and Nichkhun Horvejkul.   
‘Any leads?”  
‘We believe an ex partner may be involved”  
‘So a crime of passion?”  
‘Wouldn’t be the first time”  
‘Could be racially charged?”  
‘In this day and age?”  
Taehyung grinned. He closed the file and handed it back to his partner. He’d never get used to seeing dead bodies, be it in real life or in evidence photography.   
‘First line of inquiry?”  
‘Family, then friends”  
‘Doing the rounds, then?”  
‘Just another day at the office"  
Taehyung’s stomach churned.  
‘Lunch?”  
Hoseok glanced at his watch.  
‘Sure. We can visit the mother of Ms Manoban while we’re at it”

The Village Bond Diner was one of Bayside’s most successful restaurants and a hotspot for young people to come and hangout for the day. The smell of malt and sugar, followed by grease and oil filled Taehyung’s nostrils when he entered the threshold, Hoseok on his heels. Waitresses dressed in blue and white striped pinafores whizzed around the place, shouting orders into the kitchen and chatting amongst themselves as they worked. It was mid afternoon, and the cacophony of noise and enterprise was at it’s peak. Teenagers sat huddled over their smartphones in the booths that lined the walls and children of a younger calibre sprinted up to the jukebox to play with the slides and colourful buttons, giggling in glee at the freedom to do as they pleased, just before their parents reprimanded them, whispering threats under their breath. Taehyung and Hoseok slid into the only vacant booth at the end of the room, wasting no time in placing their order with a waitress. Hoseok slapped their new case file down onto the sticky table between them, followed by his cell phone and inhaler. Taehyung opened the file again, keen to assess the contents with fresh eyes now that he was out of the office.   
‘No mention of Ms Manoban’s father?” he remarked.  
‘Incarcerated”  
‘Offense?”  
‘Drugs”  
‘How long he been in prison?’  
‘Almost 25 years, from what I gathered”  
‘Huh.”  
Taehyung sprinkled salt on his chips, tucking into them like a man possessed. Hoseok ate quietly opposite him. The file lay exposed, documents spread out across the surface of the table to allow for easy reading.   
‘Mr Horvejkul wasn't in the States long”, Taehyung said, around a mouthful of burger.   
‘No, moved here about a month ago”.  
‘Family?”  
‘No. Lived by himself”.  
‘Met Lisa at college?”  
‘Most likely”.  
‘If the murder was racially charged, then he must have had a lot of enemies”, Taehyung said, ‘Lisa too”.  
‘Definitely,” Hoseok replied, tossing his napkin onto his empty plate, before sliding the file towards him for further inspection. ‘She’d be no exception”.  
‘We should inquire about her father when we talk to her Mom”, Taehyung said. ‘Maybe he got into some shady dealings and the people he got involved with took matters into their own hands?”  
‘Killed his daughter?”  
‘Maybe”  
‘But why kill Horvejkul, if Lisa was the target?”  
Taehyung shrugged. ‘Wrong place, wrong time?”  
Hoseok nodded.   
‘Let’s go”

Hoseok pulled up outside the last terraced house at the end of Embers Drive, putting the car into park before sitting back and taking in the exterior with a suck of his teeth. The house sat behind a small white gate, and there was a minefield of gnomes in the garden. Pink curtains covered the windows. Taehyung checked his coat for his badge. With the file in hand he stepped out of the car, and skipped after Hoseok in the direction of the house.  
Chitthip Manoban’s house smelled of stale curry and perfume. The wallpaper was a universal mix of beige and grey, and there were doilies, floral print and tons of framed photographs atop the dining tble, mantlepieces and on the windowsills. She was a short woman with a shock of black hair and sad eyes. Taehyung dropped onto the couch. Hoseok remained standing.   
‘How aware were you of your husband’s movements, Ms Manoban?” Hoseok asked.  
‘Is this about Lisa?”  
‘Yes”.  
‘Well, her father was away a lot. Rarely home”.  
‘Away on business?”  
‘Yes”.  
Taehyung interjected. ‘Do you know where he went on these business trips?”  
‘Asia”  
‘Can you be more specific?”  
Taehyung felt Hoseok move from his position near the door.  
Chitthip glanced upwards, lost in thought.   
‘Thailand”  
‘Your husband went to Thailand?”  
Chitthip nodded.   
‘How often?”  
‘Once a week”.  
Taehyung made note. Chitthip shifted in her seat.   
‘He used to hold meetings with his business partners here, in this very room, once a month also”.  
‘Meetings?”  
‘Yes. I used to cook for them when they came over”.  
‘They?”  
‘The Thai men”.  
‘Was Lisa ever around when these meetings occurred?”  
‘Yes. I mean, sometimes”.  
‘Sometimes?’  
Chitthip’s eyes filled with tears. Taehyung put a hand on her knee to console her, refusing to imagine the pain she must be in at the tragic loss of her daughter. Changing tack, Taehyung switched up the questions.  
‘Did you ever meet Lisa’s boyfriend?”  
‘Oh, yes”.  
‘What did you think of him?”  
Her face lit up. ‘He was such a nice boy”, she said. ‘The kind of man that I’d always imagined Lisa dating”.  
Taehyung made note of that. 

At that moment, Hoseok emerged into the room, and jerked his head in Taehyung’s direction, eyes darting towards the hallway. Taehyung excused himself and joined his colleague’s side, curious about Hoseok’s find.   
‘Take a look at this”, Hoseok marvelled, pointing at one particular individual that made several appearances in the photos taken of the Manoban family, and Lisa herself.   
‘Same guy”, Taehyung said.   
Hoseok nodded.   
‘He doesn't look like any of the pictures from the case file, but if he knew the family then he's a suspect and we should bring him in”.  
‘Agreed”.

Later that evening, Taehyung got out of a taxi and crossed the street towards the Queen’s Apartment Complex in the wealthier part of town. As he jogged up the steps he noticed the large, water feature in the centre, the pale grey brick scrupulous beneath the floodlights that lined the perimeter of the building, surrounded by squares of neatly cut grass. It reflected the state of the property perfectly. He greeted the man at the entrance with a quick hand shake, before following him inside the foyer and into the elevator at the far end of the room.   
‘How many tenants rent out the apartments here?” Taehyung asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets. The interior of the elevator was embossed in a black and gold finish.   
‘We have over two hundred people renting at the moment”.  
‘Good for business”.  
‘Absolutely. Queens has been the ideal location for a complex of this size, and the response of the locals to this project was overwhelmingly positive”.  
‘When was it built?”  
‘Two years ago”.  
The doors opened up into a neat corridor. Taehyung followed the building’s landlord down towards the end of the hallway, making a mental note of apartment 28 as he breezed past. They halted outside number 29.   
‘Do you know much about the last tenant living here?”  
‘Yes. It was a couple. Quiet people, never made a sound”.  
‘What about single women?”  
The landlord consulted his rental forms with raised brows.   
‘Oh, yes, there was one woman renting here about six months ago. Stayed for about two months, before she upped and left abruptly”.  
‘She left?”  
‘Yes.”  
The landlord pushed open the door to the apartment and Taehyung brushed past into the hall, taking in the size of the living space with tired eyes. The landlord hung back, nervous.   
‘Can you tell me more about this young lady?”  
‘Unfortunately not, I didn't know her that well”.  
Taehyung didn't push the matter. He swung a right into the bedroom, finding the organisation of the bedsheets to the vanity set unnerving. He glanced at the photographs on the bedside table, but didn't linger. The bathroom was the same. Not a single item had been disturbed or misplaced. Wiping a hand across the stainless steel sink, he noted ghostly remains of makeup and toothpaste on and around the plug. The shower revealed no clues either. Returning to the living space, he examined the walls, the floor and the coffee table, finding the scarcity of personal belongings and furnishings alarming.   
‘Theres an indentation here, in this wall”, Taehyung said aloud. The landlord rushed to his side, to inspect.   
‘I see”, he said, eyes wide.   
‘You didn't notice this before?”  
‘No”.  
‘Has anyone rented this apartment since that young lady moved out?”. He used the term ‘moved out’ loosely.  
‘No. It’s been vacant ever since”.  
Taehyung wiped a hand over the wall, feeling the plaster give way beneath his palm. He pressed down on it, and it buckled. Strange, he mused.   
‘Do you mind if I take a picture?”  
‘Not at all”.

The landlord walked him out of the building without saying a word. Taehyung inspected the photographs a second time, but his phone screen was too small to notice any discrepancies or anything else that might be out of place. He’d have to print them out when he got home.   
Outside he thanked the landlord for his time. With one last request niggling at the back of his mind, Taehyung showed the landlord a picture of Somin Jeon, taken from her file.   
‘Was this the woman who lived in apartment 29?”  
The landlord frowned.   
‘It might have been”, he said, peering at the image. ‘but she had shorter hair and wore a black hoodie”.  
‘Thank you”.

That night, Taehyung made a call to the only witness to Somin Jeon’s murder. She answered after the fourth ring.   
‘Hello?”  
‘Hi, this is Detective Taehyung Kim from the Bayside Federal Bureau. I need you to come in for questioning”.


	6. Jennie

The hands around Jennie’s neck tightened with every ragged, guttural gasp that escaped her throat. Her lungs strained at the lack of oxygen. The fingers were calloused, the bumps and ridges chafing the skin on her neck the rougher the hold became. The person above her was out of focus, blurry in her vision. Die. Die. Die. 

DIE BITCH! 

Jennie woke up, skin slick with warm sweat. Her hair clung to her moist forehead and her camisole rubbed horribly against her burning skin. She let out an anguished breath as her mind snapped back into consciousness. A gentle breeze whipped up around the silk curtains, and when her eyes focused on the dark, she spotted the obvious silhouette standing just out of the glare of the moonlight, motionless. Jennie blinked, thinking she was experiencing sleep paralysis again. Movement out of the corner of her eye made her panic, and she let out a scream, the shadow spooking at the noise. A flash of black along the obscured wall quickly vanished out of the bedroom, and terrified, Jennie scrambled for the beside lamp, knocking her pills to the ground in her haste. A sallow glow filled the room once the lamp was on, and Jennie pulled her duvets around her, staring around the space in fear the intruder would return. Reaching for the phone on the table she dialled the only number she knew off by heart and held the phone to her ear, hands shaking. A groggy “Hello” filled the receiver, and Jennie felt instantly relieved.  
“I had the nightmares again”, she whispered.  
“How bad were they?”.  
“Bad”.  
“Did you overdo your dosage of Eszopiclone?”  
“No. I took the recommended amount”.  
There was a pause.  
“Come in tomorrow, Jennie, and we can discuss it further”.  
“Ok”.  
Jennie relaxed against her pillows. She rubbed at her eyes, feeling utterly drained, her body responding to the severe lack of sleep in physical ailments, such as aches and pains she was unable to shake.  
“It’s nice to hear your voice”, she said, after another pause.  
“It’s nice to hear yours too, Jennie”.  
“Helps me sleep”.  
“You know I’ll always be here for you”.  
“Goodnight, Namjoon”.  
“See you tomorrow, Jennie”.

Hours later, Jennie stirred from yet another broken sleep, and the first thing her brain focused on was the splitting pain in the side of her neck. She had fallen asleep in an upright position, her phone still in hand from the night before. Nauseas she got up, and moved to the gaping window, pulling it closed with slow, intentional movements, allowing her tired brain to kick itself into gear. The thought of having to get through another taxing day made her want to crawl into a hole and never come out. She dressed quickly, a feat that proved difficult due to her aching muscles. She moved to the bathroom to brush her teeth and use the toilet, yet one fleeting glance in the cabinet mirror made her stop dead in her tracks. Bruising marred her neck; thick, aggressive purple imprints that stared back at her in the reflection. Forgoing her dental hygiene, Jennie ran out of the bathroom, tears lingering in the corner of her eyes. Subtle changes in the layout of her kitchen didn’t go unnoticed, but the wave of perturbation she felt at even the notion of acknowledging it made them easier to ignore. One of the bar stools had been pulled out from the countertop, as if an invisible person was sitting on it, a mug filled with cold tea sat on the surface of the counter, cabinets had been left open, and there, directly in Jennie’s line of sight lay a set of keys, the metal rusty and faded. Rubbing her thumb over the largest key revealed the number 29. 

*

“Let’s start with the nightmare you had last night, Jennie”.  
“Someone was strangling me”, Jennie began, “I couldn’t breathe”.  
“Do you think this nightmare is related to the murder you witnessed”.  
“Yes. Most of them are”.  
“How’s the Eszopiclone working out?”.  
“Fine”.  
Namjoon peered at her over his glasses. Jennie stared at her feet, the fabric of her scarf tickling her bruised skin. Her hair fell over her face, and she was grateful for the protection.  
“You’re not being honest with me, Jennie”.  
“I am”.  
“Have you been taking more than the recommended amount?”.  
“No”.  
Namjoon shifted in his seat.  
“Have you spoken to your family since this began?”.  
“No”.  
“Why?”.  
“My mother would have herself worried sick”.  
“And that’s a bad thing?”  
“Well, yeah”, Jennie said, “I don’t want her to worry”.  
“Are you afraid of having someone worry about you?”.  
“Haven’t really thought about it”.  
“It’s normal for a mother to worry”.  
“I know”.  
“Witnessing a murder is an understandable cause of concern”.  
Jennie scoffed. “You don’t know my mother”.  
“Enlighten me”.  
“When she gets worried, she makes the situation into a much bigger deal than it actually is”.  
“How so?”.  
“When my dad was in the throes of his affair, my mother found a way to make it seem like it was my responsibility, that because I was oh so devastated about the loss of my dear daddy, he should stay in her life, and it took such a mental toll on me that I swore to never ask for help, or to let anyone close enough to manipulate me again. I grew up believing that how others behaved was somehow my problem, and I refuse to go through that a second time”.  
“Maybe it’s time to be vulnerable”, Namjoon said, “ to try and open up to someone”.  
“Don’t think so”.  
“It might be worth a try”.  
“It won’t help me sleep any better”.  
Namjoon sat forward in his seat.  
“We don’t know that for sure”.  
Bored with the conversation, Jennie stood up, adjusting her scarf as she did so. Namjoon let out an disappointed sigh.  
“Jennie, please sit down”, he said, voice hard.  
Reluctant, Jennie complied, perching on the edge of the seat, gaze glued to the box of tissues on the table in front of her.  
“The less someone has to worry about me, the better”, she admitted.  
“Why’s that?”.  
“Because then they can get on with their lives and I can get on with mine”.  
“When was the last time you had sex, Jennie?”.  
“Why do you want to know?”  
“This is the type of vulnerability I was talking about”.  
“I don’t feel comfortable sharing”.  
“No problem, but I do believe that this is something we should continue to work on in our sessions over the coming weeks”.  
“Ok”, Jennie muttered. “You know best”.

Patrol officers strolled through the reception area of the city’s federal bureau, and Jennie felt small in comparison. Stairwells and corridors spiralled their way up a set of seven floors, most of them a hive of activity, with men clad in suits and some in luminous jackets and police regalia milling about on each and every level. Jennie signed in, and then hung around the designated waiting space, restless on her feet. A man dressed in a crisp shirt, jeans and leather Derby’s, with a mop of the curliest hair Jennie had ever seen approached the reception desk, and Jennie eyed him, intrigued. He turned towards the waiting area and called her name. 

“In here”.  
Jennie entered a small, barren room, stacks of plastic chairs lined the back wall, and two dismantled desks lay against them, reminding Jennie of the slide she used to play on as a child. A smaller table and two chairs occupied the middle of the room, and Jennie dropped into the seat closest to her, stifling a yawn. Taehyung sat across from her, tossing a notepad, a pen and a rectangular box onto the surface of the table.  
“I hope you don’t mind me recording this conversation”, he said. His voice was deep;smooth even.  
Jennie nodded her consent.  
“Tell me what you saw the night of the murder”.  
Jennie relayed the details of the one night that continued to torment her with slow, deliberate sentences, refusing to omit a single element of it. The events of last night pierced through the jumble of memories from the evening Somin was murdered, and Jennie wasted no time in making Taehyung aware of it.  
“Someone broke into my apartment last night”.  
“Can you describe them to me?”  
“I don’t think so. I didn’t see much”.  
“Tell me what you did see then”.  
“They were dressed in black”.  
“That it?”.  
“They may have had a weapon on them, but I’m not certain”.  
“Ok”.  
Taehyung paused the recording and made further notes in silence. Jennie observed the way he held the pen, the muscles of his forearm flexing beneath the fabric of his shirt, the way the longest curl danced in front of his forehead with every subtle head movement. Whilst he was occupied, Jennie wordlessly fished the keys out of her pocket and placed them on the table. Taehyung’s gaze flicked over them, and when recognition dawned on him, Jennie braced for the torrent of accusations that were sure to come her way at any moment.  
“Where did you get those?”, Taehyung said, eyes trained on the offending item.  
“I found them in my apartment”.  
“Do you understand the implications that are attached to having something like this in your possession?”.  
“Kind of”.  
“Jesus, this places you at the scene of the crime”.  
Jennie felt hot tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “They aren’t mine, I swear”.  
“I swear, isn’t going to hold up in court”.  
“I think they were planted”.  
“Planted by who?”.  
“The person who broke into my apartment”.  
Jennie wiped at the tears that spilled over with the back of her hand, wishing the ground would swallow her whole. Lifting his glasses, Taehyung scrubbed a hand down his face, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. Sighing loudly, he hit record once again and resumed the interview.  
“Are you on any medication, Ms Kim?”  
“Eszopiclone”.  
“What do you take it for?”.  
“Insomnia”.  
“Who prescribed it to you?”  
“My therapist”.  
“What’s his name?”.  
“Namjoon. Dr Kim Namjoon”.  
“What’s the nature of your relationship with him?”.  
“Private”.  
“Sexual?”  
Jennie squirmed. “No”.  
“Has there been a history of insomnia in your family?”  
“Not that I know of”.  
Pausing the recording, Taehyung filled another page of his notepad with further evaluations before resuming the conversation once again.  
“Have you ever sleepwalked?”.  
“I don’t think so?”  
“Ok, well, we’re gonna have to rule that out”.  
“How?”.  
“A polysomnogram”.  
“What’s that?”  
“It’s a test designed to monitor and determine whether a person has a sleep disorder or not”.  
“How much will it cost?”.  
Taehyung cracked a smile. “We can do it here in the bureau with our registered somnologist, DF Yoon Jisook”.  
“Ok”.  
“I’ll arrange an appointment”.  
“When?”.  
“Tomorrow morning”  
Taehyung terminated the recording and stood up, indicating at Jennie to follow him. They moved to the door. Jennie caught the whiff of coffee and stale aftershave in his wake.  
“What about the keys?”.  
“Don’t worry about it”.  
“Are you sure?”  
“Yes. Sign out when you leave”.


	7. Jennie/Taehyung

‘Welcome, Jennie”.  
Jennie glanced up at the sound to see an intercom crackling above the door to the laboratory. It was followed by an obnoxious buzzing, and then a click. Jennie pushed open the heavy fire exit door, and then entered into a minimal laboratory, white walls rising up around her as she took in her surroundings, clutching at the strap on her backpack nervously. Doors circled the perimeter of the space and in the centre lay a console laden with complicated arrays of wires and camera equipment. Two orderlies clad in neat turquoise scrubs commandeered that area, and in the farthest corner was a desk, an elegant woman in a white lab coat perched behind it, not a hair out of place. She greeted Jennie with a firm handshake and a smile.   
‘I’m Dr. Yoon Jisook”, she said.   
Jennie couldn't muster even the smallest grin. Waving her hand at one of the tallest orderlies, Dr Jisook asked Jennie to follow him into one of the available rooms to get settled. Jennie obliged, taking in the sterility of the space, and betting how quickly it would take her mild claustrophobia to kick in. An ensuite was on her right, and across from it was a bed, not unlike the one she had back in the apartment with a rickety night stand completing the look for good measure. The two cameras in the corner of the ceiling made her palms sweaty.   
‘Get comfortable”, the orderly said, ‘ the doctor will be with you shortly”.  
Unzipping her bag, Jennie placed her pills on the nightstand and plugged in her phone charger. Ducking into the bathroom she used the toilet, sizing up the tiny window next to her as a suitable escape route should she need it. Emerging back into the bedroom space, she was met with a metal tray piled high with electrodes and black strips of fabric, and the doctor, who was already grinning at her with a little more enthusiasm than Jennie felt was necessary. Sitting on the bed, she followed every instruction given to her without much resistance as the doctor carried out the mandatory electroencephalogram, before placing several adhesive electrodes to specific areas of Jennie’s head, chest and ankles. One of the black belts was clipped around her midriff and the other went around her stomach, and lastly, a pronged nasal cannula was inserted deep into her nose, much to Jennie’s chagrin. The doctor handed her a clipboard with two forms on it, and a pen. Jennie filled both forms out without a hitch.   
‘How long have you been taking Eszopiclone?”, Jisook asked, flicking through the forms with furrowed brows.   
‘Not long”.  
‘Can you be more exact?”  
‘About a week”.  
‘Ok. Go ahead and take your pills, and then we’ll get started”.

Hoseok swung into an available parking space with ease, before lifting the handbrake and putting the vehicle into park. The house at the end of Holmfirth estate was unfastidious, to say the least. He took one look at the dilapidated house, and shook his head in disgust. Taehyung pushed open the wrought iron gate and made his way up the driveway, the vociferous blare of heavy metal music coming from inside enough to drown out his own thoughts. Bins overflowing with loose rubbish made him grimace. A pink fluorescent light pulsed behind the dirty blind in the window. Hoseok stepped up onto the porch next to his colleague, visibly repulsed by the exterior of the building.   
‘Fucking dump”, he remarked, banging a fist on the door . Taehyung didn't disagree. Minutes passed. Frustrated, Hoseok hammered on the door a little harder this time. Moments slipped by before they heard erratic movement behind the partition. Taehyung’s hand flew to the gun on his hip. The door opened as far as the chain lock on the inside would allow, and a dark haired girl appeared in the space created between the jamb and the wall. Hoseok flashed his badge, and that’s when the girl spooked, yelling at the top of her voice to alert the other residents of the house that the Feds had arrived. Taehyung rammed a shoulder into the door, and with Hoseok’s added force the chain lock snapped and both detectives spilled into the hallway. Taehyung raised his gun. Thick smoke clung to the walls and ceiling, hanging in the air like a suffocating cloak.   
‘Police”, he yelled above the egregious din.   
Screams from the back of the house made Hoseok go running. Taehyung peeked into the living room, his eyes watering from the exposure to the fog, a rancid mix of marijuana and body odour assaulting his senses. Through the blur he could see two women slumped over on the couch, most likely in a drug induced stupor, and on the grimy ottoman in front of the sofa lay a series of narcotic paraphernalia, such as syringes, rolling paper, spoons and lighters. An ashtray at the foot of the ottoman was full of cigarette butts and blunt joints. Movement from Taehyung’s peripheral made him spin round to face another doped up individual. Blood seeped from the entry wound of a needle in this man’s arm. It took his brain less than a second to register the pistol in the man’s hand, and ducking behind the wall, Taehyung managed to avoid getting his head blown off. The bullet clipped the wood in the door jamb, and once it followed through, Taehyung stepped into the room just in time to fire a shot into the assailant’s shoulder. He dropped to the ground. Apprehending the pistol, Taehyung moved to the couch and picked up one of the girl’s wrists, checking for a pulse. A gunshot ripped through the building, amid the resounding squeal of distortion guitars and drums that vibrated through a lone speaker perched atop a crowded mantelpiece, the device on it’s last legs. Satisfied that the girls were alive, Taehyung ran into the adjacent room, doing a sweep of all four corners before he dashed down the hall in the direction of the gunshot, heart pounding in his chest. The stench of unwashed bodies was overwhelming. Hoseok was standing outside the bathroom, rounding up two individuals who had taken refuge in there, cowering in the bathtub. Hoseok had his gun trained on them.   
An injured resident was crumpled on the floor, cursing incoherently at his ordeal. Taehyung lifted his gun as he approached his colleague’s side, ready for anything. A young man, about six foot tall, towered protectively over the girl he was with, pupils dilated to black. Cocaine consumption was evident on his face, the light dusting of white powder around his nostrils giving it away.   
‘You BamBam?” Hoseok asked.   
‘Depends on who’s asking?”  
In the time it took Hoseok to muster a response, BamBam lunged forward, thinking he could take the detectives by surprise. Taehyung was quicker. Sticking his foot out, he tripped BamBam on his way out of the door, and his six foot self collided with the wall, clocking his head on the side before sliding to the ground. Hoseok wasted no time in handcuffing him, happy to leave him on the ground and out of trouble. Taehyung lifted his police radio to his mouth and put in a request for armed backup and the emergency services. It wasn't long before a wail of a siren split through the night, and the house was swarmed with officers and paramedics. BamBam was arrested and removed from the property. Taehyung escorted the girl who was with BamBam outside to awaiting officers, ignoring her cries and pleas for mercy. Hoseok was standing by the bins, smoking. Taehyung joined him.   
‘That went well”, Hoseok joked.   
‘Most success we’ve had in this case yet”.  
‘Think he's guilty?”  
‘If he doesn't get done for drug possession first, then I’ll be surprised”.  
‘True. Lets see how brave he is in the interrogation room”.

*

Jennie startled awake, flinching when she spotted a shadow dart across the end of her bed, as if it was on an invisible pulley. The tinkle of children’s laughter echoed in her head. The bed she was sleeping in wasn’t hers. Whispering from the darkest depths of the corner where the light couldn’t reach caused her anxiety to spike yet she felt calm, unafraid. Above her, creatures swam, wispy trails of torn entities merging into one on the ceiling, as if they were fish trapped in a tank. Scratching from the corner made Jennie glance in that direction, heart hammering in her chest. A child sat on the floor with its back to her, whispering indecipherable nothings as his hands moved across his body of their own accord, twisting unnaturally to claw at his back. Not once did the child turn. Getting up Jennie ran to his side, reaching out to grab his hands, only her grasp never made contact. Desperate she swiped at the mirage, panicking the longer the ordeal continued. The child ripped into his flesh, tearing chunks from his face and chest, his actions becoming more vigorous and violent with every piece of flesh he shed.   
“Stop”, Jennie screamed.   
More flesh fell to the ground.  
“What are you doing?”, she yelled, feeling her vocal chords tear in her throat. A buzz in her ear made her recoil, swiping at her temple haphazardly.   
“Jennie”.  
“Jennie, wake up”.  
“Wake her up now”.  
“Jennie!!”.  
Jennie’s eyes snapped open, and upon assessing her surroundings she didn’t recognise the room she was in. A sharp sting from her right arm made her glance down, wide eyed, to see large scrapes on her forearm, blood beading at the deepest parts of the cut. A silhouette made her glance up at the door to see the doctor staring back at her, shock evident on her pretty face. Jennie went to pull the electrodes off her head, but her muscles felt like lead, heavy and uncoordinated. The doctor ushered an orderly into the room to assist with the removal of the equipment, and when he was finished he helped Jennie to her feet.   
“What happened ?” Jennie asked.  
“You were sleepwalking”. 

Dusk fell outside the windows of the bureau, and Taehyung was on his seventh coffee of the day. Decaf, this time. He sipped at it carefully as he walked down the hall towards the interrogation rooms, a notification from Tinder making him stop momentarily to read it. A pretty brunette who studied art appeared on screen. He went to send her a flirtatious message but something in the back of his mind convinced him to abstain from the idea.   
The interrogation room was cramped when he arrived. Three police officers sat in the back next to the monitors and a secondary detective and his boss stood behind the double glazed partition, watching the interview unfold in the secure space in silence. Taehyung joined the line of spectators quietly. Hoseok was pacing the room, speaking in clipped sentences, anger laced in his tone. BamBam countered his questions, growing increasingly frustrated the more Hoseok pushed his buttons. It took one smug accusation from Hoseok to send BamBam into rage. He jumped to his feet and let out a roar, yanking on his chains with jerking motions, kicking at the legs of the metal table as he did so. The officers sitting behind Taehyung sprinted out of the room to go and seize him before he did any more damage.   
“We got him”, his boss said, triumphantly.   
He shot Taehyung a nod of approval.   
“Good work detective”.  
“Thank you, sir”.

Fighting back a yawn, Taehyung did the final rounds of his office space before grabbing his bag and coat, the idea of getting a few hours sleep at home filling him with excitement. On his way down to the foyer he was stopped by Dr Yoon Jisook.   
“Do you have a minute?”, she asked.   
“Sure”.  
“I want to discuss the results of the polysomnogram with you”.  
“No problem”, Taehyung replied, “how did Jennie get on?”.  
The doctor’s face fell. “There was some degree of resistance”.  
“How so?”.  
“She sleepwalked during the exam”.  
“I see”.  
“Yes, and that’s not all”, Jisook said, “she also harmed herself during the time she was in that state”.  
“How badly?”  
“She was scratching at her arms”.  
“So, the possibility of her sleepwalking and killing another individual is high?”  
“It’s extremely plausible. I believe Jennie is a danger to herself and possibly others when she is trapped in that somnambulant state”.  
“Ok”.  
“My professional advice is that she should not be left alone at night until I can liaise with other technicians about my findings and get her on the appropriate medication”.  
“I thought she was already taking sleeping pills?”.  
“Well, I think the Eszopiclone she was on initially is actually triggering her bouts of somnambulance rather than curing it”.  
“Really?”  
“Yes, I’ve advised Jennie to stop taking it going forward, but like I said, I don’t think it is wise to leave her unmedicated and alone at night”.  
“I’ll see if I can get an officer to conduct a routine check up with her during the night for a week then”.  
“Ok”.  
“Thanks again, doctor”.  
“Goodnight, detective”.


	8. Taehyung

Dr Kim Namjoon’s office was impeccable. Plaques of his success hung on the wall nearest the door, and above his desk lay the framed parchment of his Masters degree in Psychology. With hands in his pockets, Taehyung prowled the room, making mental observations as he went. He wanted to get as much of a feel for this guy as he could. Impartial to the duty he felt he owed Jennie to solve this case once and for all, and the budding notion that he wanted to protect her somehow. A large folder lay on the desk and with a casual glance towards the door Taehyung flicked through the first few pages, noting the neat handwritten notes and a list of clients and weekly inputs of up and coming appointments. Leaving the folder open, Taehyung pulled open the closest drawer, rifling through scraps and broken stationery items in search of a possible faulty screw, something that would reveal a hidden compartment. He came up short. Below that, he locat ed a series of files labelled with the names of Namjoon’s clients. He had his hand on Jennie’s one when the door swung open and Namjoon stepped into the room, frowning when he spotted a nosy Taehyung behind his desk. Straightening up, Taehyung flashed his badge.   
“Can I help you with something, detective?”.  
“Yes. I’m here on behalf of one of your clients”.  
“Is that so?”.  
Namjoon walked to his desk and dropped down into the chair provided, sorting through his briefcase in a nonchalant manner, blanking Taehyung as he did so. Taehyung watched him carry out this facade with little tolerance. He cleared his throat.   
Placing his briefcase down onto the floor, Namjoon turned his attention towards him, mouth slightly upturned, as if on the verge of a smile.   
“Which client are you referring to?”, he asked.  
“Jennie Kim”.  
Namjoon nodded slowly.   
“What about her?”  
“How aware were you of her sleeping habits?”  
“Acutely.”  
“Ok. And you provided her with suitable medication to help combat that?”  
Namjoon adjusted his glasses.   
“The Eszopiclone has been extremely effective in curing Jennie’s insomnia”.  
“Has it?”  
“I’m not sure I understand your question, detective?”  
“I have reason to believe that the medication you prescribed to Jennie is actually having adverse effects on her sleeping habits, instead of curing them, like you claim they do”.  
“Impossible”.  
“It isn’t that impossible, Mr Kim”.  
“I would never prescribe my clients medication that I felt would harm them in any way. We take great care of our clients here”.  
“You would if it meant that the sad and the vulnerable kept coming back to you, worse off than before and craving pharmaceutical drugs, because that’s, unfortunately, how you make your money”.   
“How dare you”.  
“Am I wrong?”  
Namjoon scoffed. “That’s quite an accusation you’ve got there, detective”.  
“I’ll need to see Jennie Kim’s file”.  
“I can’t comply with that wish”, Namjoon countered, steepling his fingers.  
“If you don’t, you’d be impeding a legal inquiry and that is an arrestable offence”.  
“If I were to present Ms Kim’s file to you I would be breaching the patient/therapist confidentiality agreement and I’m a man of ethics, which means that by doing so I’d be going against my own professional values”.  
“I hate to break it to you, but the law is above your ‘professional values’ Mr Kim”.  
“I’ve only just developed a mutual rapport with Jennie during the months she’s been coming to me, and I will not break that trust for anything”.  
“And what does a mutual rapport look like to you?”.  
“One where my clients can reach out to me at any time of the day to talk and discuss matters that concern them”.  
“I see. And that wouldn’t go beyond the legal parameters of your patient/therapist confidentiality at all, would it?”.  
“I don’t like what you’re implying, detective”.  
“And what am I implying?”.  
“I have never conducted a relationship with any of my clients outside the confines of this room”.  
“Let’s keep it that way”.  
“I have a client coming in the next five minutes for her appointment”, Namjoon said, through gritted teeth, “so I’m going to ask you to kindly get the fuck out of my office”.

Taehyung’s phone rang on his way out of the Mental Massage Therapy Clinic, and agitated he answered the call, barking out a clipped “Hello”.  
Hoseok was on the other line.   
“You alright?”.  
“Fine”.  
“Ok. Where are you?”.  
Taehyung relayed his current whereabouts down the phone, heading towards the the busy Main Street as he spoke, suddenly craving a coffee and a smoke.   
“I’ll pick you up in ten”, Hoseok said.   
“Everything okay?”.  
“No. We have a possible child abduction from the local playground. We should have been there fifteen minutes ago”.  
“I’ll be at the coffee shop downtown”, Taehyung replied, “collect me there”.

Later that evening, Taehyung was standing outside Jennie’s apartment, restless and in need of a good night’s sleep. Jennie answered the door and looked him up and down.   
“I was expecting two officers”, she said, inviting him inside.   
“They were swamped with work, so I agreed to do the nightly overwatch instead”.  
“In regards to the investigation?”.  
“I can’t discuss the details of that with you at the moment. I’m also off duty and am not in the mood to talk about work in any capacity”.  
“Alright”.  
Taehyung sat up onto a vacant barstool, tossing his long trench coat over the back of it for maximum comfort. He watched Jennie mooch about the kitchenette, the sight provoking discomfort to rise up inside him. She placed two wine glasses down onto the counter followed by a bottle of wine.   
“Do you like wine?”.  
“Sure”.  
She poured his glass and then her own, taking a long sip to hide her flushed cheeks. Taehyung fingered the stem of his own glass, unable to recall the last time he was this comfortable.   
“What’s it like being a detective?”, Jennie asked.   
Taehyung stifled a chuckle. “It’s nothing like you see on television”.  
“Really?”.  
“Yeah”, he replied, “it’s draining and difficult and you hardly get any time off. There’s a lot of long hours and overtime and sometimes it’s all for nothing, especially if cases don’t get solved”.  
“Like this one?”.  
“No, I’m going to solve this one, don’t worry”.  
“I appreciate you showing an interest”.  
“It’s an interesting case, that’s for sure”.  
Taehyung downed half his glass, suddenly more relaxed. Jennie eyed him over the rim of her own glass.   
“Are you in a relationship?”.  
Taehyung choked. He never assumed Jennie was interested, but if she was, then the sooner he nipped that in the bud, the better. For her sake.   
“I was once”.  
“What happened?”.  
“Ah, asking all the right questions”, Taehyung said, playfully, “you’d make a great detective”.  
Jennie rolled her eyes. “  
“You didn’t answer my question”.  
“My job got in the way”, Taehyung began, “I was never home, and it got to the point where my girlfriend at the time had just had enough. We had a baby on the way, and in her mind she felt that I would always choose work over my family, which would never happen, but she was stubborn, and one day I worked overtime, got home super late and she had gone. Packed her bags and everything”.  
“I’m so sorry to hear that”.  
“Don’t worry about it”.  
“Have you ever met your kid?”.  
“No”.  
“That’s shocking”.  
Taehyung finished his glass. The alcohol enhanced his existing fatigue.   
“It’s also life”.

Taehyung fell into a broken sleep, tossing and turning on the couch with every nightmare he had, finding the cramped space and uneven cushions more of a hindrance than helpful when it came to obtaining a healthy eight hours. The apartment was plunged into darkness, and the sense that he was being watched made him startle awake. Blinking twice he stared around the apartment, fixating on the shadows, hoping to spot something out of the ordinary. The low thrum of traffic outside was enough to make him yawn and yearn for his own bed. Lying back down he shut his eyes, and was almost completely relaxed when a blow to the side of his head made him jerk upwards, his skull pulsing from the unknown impact. Turning he spotted the silhouette, clad in black and clutching his gun. He moved towards them, but they were faster, sprinting down the hall in the direction of Jennie’s bedroom, and, now alert, Taehyung pursued the intruder, bursting into Jennie’s room to ensure she was unscathed. She wasn’t in her bed. The sheets were rumpled and the curtains at the window stirred in the breeze. Clothes lay in a messy pile atop a vanity set chair and on the floor. His head throbbed.  
Disorientated, he made to turn round in the direction of the bathroom, when a substantial weight landed on his back, two strong arms gripping his throat as he staggered backwards into the wall, using his own brawn against that of his assailant to jostle their hold on him. Once they loosened their grip, he lurched forward far enough to grab hold of their arm and fling them to the ground. Alarmed by their agility, Taehyung watched them leap to their feet with ease. Squaring his shoulders, Taehyung sized them up, ready for the next plan of action. Aware that his gun could be utilised at any point during this altercation, he tackled the intruder into the far wall, hitting it hard, before straightening up and pressing a secure forearm into their epithelium to pin them in place, angling his hips in a way that trapped their legs against the partition. Determined, his assailant clutched at his tie, applying force there with a solid hand, keeping the detective at bay as best they could. Taehyung seized their left wrist in a grip that allowed him to apprehend the gun in the safest way he knew how. The gun went off just before it fell to the ground, sending a bullet into the ceiling. Using his right foot Taehyung kicked the gun out of reach, the weapon skittering across the ground for good measure. The eyes staring back at him were harsh, angry and oppressed.   
A rattle from the left made Taehyung turn to see Jennie emerge from the bathroom, a razor in hand. Her lower half was wet.   
Taking advantage of Taehyung’s weakened resolve, his attacker freed their left leg long enough to fire a knee into his solar plexus. Winded, Taehyung staggered backwards, crouched over in pain. The intruder bolted for the exit. Jennie flicked on the light, flooding the hall with a harsh glow. She rushed to his side.  
“Are you ok?”  
“I’m fine, just stay back, alright”.  
Mustering the final bit of strength he had within him, he ran for his gun, spun, and then headed out into the hallway, looking up and down the empty corridor for any signs of the intruder, a noise, a flash of black, even. When he saw nothing he closed the door and locked it. Jennie stood in the entrance to the hallway, looking on with furrowed brows. Taehyung frowned at her.   
“Did you harm yourself?”.  
“No”.  
“Ok”.  
“Should I call someone?”  
“No. Just go back to bed”.

A gust of chilly wind made Taehyung’s skin break out in goosebumps. A headache had formed behind his eyes. Sitting up he spotted Jennie standing outside on the balcony, locks of her long dark hair blowing around her face in the breeze. Getting up, he fixed himself a coffee and stood in the doorway to the mezzanine, the harsh glare of early morning light doing nothing but aggravate his headache. The smell of smoke mingled with the bitterness of his coffee.   
“You got an extra one?”.  
“Sure”.  
Placing her slowly extinguishing cigarette between her lips, Jennie dug into her pocket for the pack of fags, offering Taehyung one in silence. He lit the end and inhaled deeply.   
“Do you have any recollection of what happened last night?”.  
“Vaguely”.  
“Can you be more specific?”.  
“I remember going to bed and then talking to you in the hallway after the intruder left”.  
“That’s it?”  
“Yes”.  
Jennie tapped the ash off the end of her fag.  
“Should I remember more?”  
“If you can”.  
“It’s all quite hazy, really”.  
Taehyung leant against the door jamb, crossing his legs at the ankles. The wind cut through the steam rising from his cup.  
“Are you sure you don’t have any enemies?”.  
“I can’t imagine anyone would have an issue with me to be totally honest’, she said, “at least not one big enough to break into my apartment two nights in a row”.  
“How much do you trust that therapist of yours?”.  
“A lot. Why?”  
“I have my doubts”.  
“Why?”.  
“I think he prescribed you a medication that is completely ineffective in curing your sleeping habits”.  
“The doctor said the same thing”.  
“You didn’t take those pills last night did you?”  
“Are you asking me as a detective or -?”.  
“I’m asking you as a friend”.  
Jennie turned to face him, shielding her eyes from the radiance of the sunlight.   
“We’re friends now?”  
“I think so”.  
“Maybe we should be”.  
“You think?”  
She shrugged in lieu of a response. Taehyung sipped on his coffee, stomach crying out for something more generous than a liquid breakfast. Jennie put her back to him, leaning both elbows on the railing of the balcony.   
“No, i didn’t take the pills last night”.  
“I’m glad”.  
“I don’t have many friends, you know”.  
Taehyung couldn’t hide his surprise.   
“I don’t believe you”.  
“It’s true”.  
“I’m honoured to be the first”.  
“Whatever”.   
Taehyung sensed the smile in her tone. A shrill ringing from his mobile made him return to the couch grudgingly, placing his mug on the coffee table so that he could fish through his jacket pocket in search of the device.   
The phone never stopped fucking ringing.   
Just as he retrieved the item, the call cut out. Stuffing it into his pocket he donned his trench coat and gathered his belongings. Jennie stepped back into the apartment at that moment, closing the balcony door behind her in her wake.   
“It’s work”, Taehyung said, unable to hide his remorse.   
Jennie shot him a quick smile. “Must be urgent”.  
“Call me if anything new about last night comes up”.  
“Ok. Goodbye detective”.  
“You can call me Taehyung”.  
“So informal, no?”  
“Well, we are friends, right?”


	9. Jennie/Taehyung

Nausea roiled in Jennie’s gut as she thrashed around on the bed, kicking her sheets to the floor as the inability to fall asleep gripped her in a vice. As bile rose in her throat, she prised her clammy thighs apart in order to stagger to the bathroom, vomiting with wretched gags into the toilet bowl, grimacing when it splashed onto the floor and onto the cistern, in a pattern that resembled an artist flicking paint onto their canvas. Wiping her mouth, she moved to the sink, proceeding to splash cold water on her face in an attempt to cool her flushed cheeks. Scuffling from behind her made her glance up into the mirror, where the outline of a person was standing, obscured by the shadows of the dark hallway in the reflection. Jennie froze. Turning, the shadow took off down the hall, footfalls becoming distant the farther they got. Jennie gave chase, pursuing the stranger out into the main corridor and to the left, picking up the pace as she sprinted into a vacant apartment, stopping in the centre of the living space when the silhouette vanished from sight. Jennie spun round and round, finding nothing. A voice cut through her conscious and facing the living area, a blurry manifestation of figures, people, sitting at a table in the midst of their evening meal  
appeared in her vision. Somin was opposite Jennie at the table, hands crossed in front of her, staring right through her as if she wasn’t there, transparent. Jennie picked up her knife, but the hand in which she held the utensil was robotic and leaden. Sounds came at her clumsily, as if she were underwater and someone above the surface was trying to tell her something. To her right she could make out the outline of another individual who was situated at the head of the table, despite their features being unclear and unfamiliar to her. This faceless being fixed their attention on Jennie and she angled the knife towards him, suddenly afraid and in fear for her life. Without warning, somin appeared on the other end of the blade and Jennie slashed her throat, hacking at the girl’s torso with violent, erratic movements. The third person at the scene rose from their seat and rushed towards Jennie, hands outstretched, fingers curved inwards in a way that mimicked the talons of an eagle. Jennie cowered away from the entity, waiting for the moment of impact, only it never arrived because at that very second, her eyes snapped open, and she was back in the real world, standing in the middle of Somin Jeon’s apartment in a camisole and panties, feeling the miasmatic chill from the vacuous place seep into the exposed soles of her feet like a parasite burying itself into the flesh of its host.  
Rushing back to her own apartment she turned on all the lights and dove for her phone, dialling the number she needed with shaking hands. When he answered, she could feel the dense lump in her throat increase in size.  
“I did it”, she cried, “I killed Somin Jeon”. 

From down the street, Jennie could make out Taehyung’s striking figuration emerge from an idle vehicle on the side of the road. He was with another man. Jennie broke into a jog, sidestepping the slower individuals on the path in order to cover more ground. She sprinted across the pedestrian walkway, narrowly dodging a delivery cyclist as she went. Taehyung and his counterpart vanished inside the doors of the glass monstrosity that was the Federal Bureau and with a sudden burst of adrenaline Jennie piled into the lobby, sweaty and out of breath. The foyer was a hive of activity. Taehyung was at the reception desk, talking to his colleague in hushed tones. Jennie stepped aside to let a group of younger officers pass her by, burly torsos encased in the thick navy folds of their uniforms. Calming her racing heart, Jennie sidled into the waiting area, shooting glances in Taehyung’s direction every chance she got. The events of last night had her rattled.  
When he acknowledged her presence, he excused himself from the conversation and approached her, indicating with a hard glare that they should take this conversation somewhere more discreet. He started down the nearest corridor, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his trench coat. Jennie was at his side in a heartbeat.  
‘Talk”, he said.  
‘I woke up in Somin’s apartment last night”.  
‘How?”  
‘I was sleepwalking, I think”.  
‘You think?”  
‘Yeah”.  
They rounded a corner.  
‘I’m going to ask you again, Jennie”, Taehyung said, ‘do you have or know of anyone who would want to hurt you in this way?”  
‘No”.  
‘Nobody at all”.  
‘No, there couldn’t be”.  
‘I can’t do anything with that information”.  
‘What do you want me to do? To say?”.  
Taehyung opened a door to the right and led a trembling Jennie inside. Jennie recognised it as being the same room her interrogation took place in.  
‘Your family? All good there?”  
Jennie felt her chest constrict. “Kind of?”  
‘Elaborate”.  
‘Well, like most teenagers, I didn’t get along with my mother growing up, and my father was having an affair with a teacher of mine down at the local primary school, so he was never at home, and my sister….”  
‘What about your sister?”  
Jennie went silent. Taehyung perched on the corner of the table, arms folded across his broad frame. After a few seconds, he sighed loudly, clearly impatient with the hold up.  
‘Jennie, I’m waiting?”  
Jennie opened her mouth to speak, when an intrusive thought shot through her conscious, a fragmented memory of the nightmare she had endured several hours ago, and she gasped, clutching at her forehead as if in pain. Taehyung stood up, assessing her condition.  
‘There was a man”, she said.  
‘What? Where?”  
‘In my dream”, Jennie explained, ‘he looked familiar to me”.  
‘Can you describe him?”  
‘His face was blurry, but he was balding on the top of his head. Tall, aswell”.  
‘Give me the context of the dream”.  
Jennie filled him in on the incident in Somin’s apartment.  
“That’s why you thought you killed Somin?”  
“You don’t think it was me?”  
“No, but I think whoever is responsible is attempting to use you as their scapegoat, like planting the keys in your kitchen, for example”.  
“It was so real though”, Jennie said, “the feel of the knife, the smell of the food, the surreal experience of watching yourself manoeuvre the situation, everything”.  
Taehyung put out a hand to stop her.  
“I don’t think it was you, Jennie”.  
“How can you be sure?”  
“Just trust me, okay. I think you’re just as much a victim as Somin was”.  
“Could I be next”.  
“I promise you won’t be”  
Taehyng paced the room, and Jennie took his spot on the corner of the desk. She rubbed the back of her neck anxiously, digging her nails into the flesh with rigid fingers.  
‘So that man could be a potential suspect in this case then?”, Taehyung mused, after a brief pause.  
Jennie found it hard to breathe.  
‘It’s probable. At first he looked like my own father, but then..?”  
‘Then?”  
‘He changed into someone else”.  
Taehyung looked at his watch. ‘I have to go, Jennie, but if you remember anything else about this man, then please check in with me as soon as possible. I think Somin’s killer has been right under our noses this entire time”.

*

‘Dr Kim, will be with you shortly”.  
Jennie sat in the plush seat facing Namjoon’s armchair and desk. Her tea warmed her cold hands, and she sipped it tentatively, eyeing the clock closely. His desk was cluttered, which was unusual for a man of Namjoon’s calibre. Getting up, she walked over to it, taking in the disarray with a frown. The side of a laminated sheet of paper poked out from beneath a box of folders. Placing her hot drink down, Jennie pulled on the image, lifting the edge of the box to get it free. It was a crime scene photograph. The black and white print was foggy, the tainted lamination creating an opaque effect. A woman lay face down on a bed, hands and feet bound. The condition of the image made her upper body parts impossible to recognise. On the back were two sets of initials, followed by an illegible note. Murmurs from outside the room made Jennie panic. Sliding the image back into place, and shifting the box on top of it to cover her tracks, she darted back to her seat. Namjoon strode into the space and gave her a curt nod. He deposited his briefcase at the base of his desk, and Jennie held her breath when he lingered there momentarily. He picked up his red notebook and a pen and moved to the armchair opposite Jennie, settling into the leather with a squeak. Over his shoulder, Jennie caught sight of her takeaway cup standing, perilously, on the lip of the escritoire. 

A stormy evening rolled in and settled around the Bureau as dusk fell, the rain lashing the windows with a vengeance. The wind let out a vociferous howl, making the top of the building shake for good measure. Taehyung found himself alone at his desk, his computer screen blinking at him as he reviewed a set of new cases, some recent and others that had gone cold over the last few years.  
His mind wandered to Jennie, and the conversation they had had earlier that day. He felt there was still a massive, pending gap in her background, and on a hunch, he pulled up her mother’s listed address and contact details. Using his mobile to make the call, he typed in her phone number and waited.  
“Hello?”.  
“Hi, this is Detective Kim Taehyung from the Federal Bureau”.  
“Is this about my daughter?”  
“Yes. I just have some questions regarding her home life? It’s procedure”.  
“I see”.  
“What can you tell me about Jennie’s childhood?”  
“Jennie was a quiet child at most. She dabbled in makeup and beauty in her teens, and then decided to pursue it when she moved out of home”.  
“Was college the only reason she chose to move out of home?”.  
“I don’t think so”, Ms Kim replied, inhaling sharply, “Jennie would never admit it, but I think she left due to familial tension between her and a sibling”.  
“Do you think this tension could have run deeper than what she allowed you and your husband to see?”.  
“Perhaps. It wouldn’t shock me if it did”.  
“When was the last time you spoke to Jennie, Ms Kim?”  
“Over a year ago”.  
“Why so long?”.  
“Jennie doesn’t want anything to do with her family, and as her mother I’m trying to respect that. It makes me sad but I want to honour her choices”.  
“Of course”, Taehyung replied, “I’d be interested to find out more, Ms Kim, so if it was alright with you I’d like to make a routine visit sometime soon?”.  
There was silence on the other end of the phone.  
“Ms Kim? Hello?”.  
Still no response. Taehyung glanced at his phone screen. The call was still running.  
Noise on the other end made him freeze.  
“Yes, next week would be perfect”.  
“Great, thank you”.


	10. Taehyung/Jennie

Taehyung pushed through the throngs of people towards the bar, catching sight of Hoseok and their colleagues down the end, pints and glasses laid out in front of them. Surrendering his barstool, Hoseok got to his feet and greeted his friend with an amicable slap on the back. Taehyung put in an order. Hoseok reeked of booze, and the conversation was drowned out by the pulsating bass and throbbing chatter that came at him from all angles. His pint appeared in front of him as quickly as he had it drunk, the cold, fizzy liquid mixing with the tacit stale coffee in the back of his throat. Taehyung engaged in friendly banter with his colleagues, letting out a laugh when Hoseok made a face in the middle of a joke. Before he knew it, Taehyung was holding another beer, the alcohol from the pint before already taking hold. Half way through his second drink, his phone buzzed in his pocket. It was a text from Jennie. He stood up to go, much to the disappointment of his friends, and excused himself from the bar, agreeing to meet them again on their next night out. The night was chilly when he stepped onto the street, moving onto the road to avoid the hoardes of partygoers and crowds milling about on the roadside. Hailing the first taxi he saw, he let Jennie know that he was on route.

“Thank you for coming”.  
“Just doing my job”.  
“Is the couch okay?”.  
“Perfect”.  
Switching off the hall light, Jennie went to bed. Taehyung moved to the couch and tossed his coat over the back of it. The alcohol made him sleepy and sinking onto the cushions, his head swam. He couldn’t remember the last time he had an uninterrupted night of rest. Placing his mobile, cigarettes and keys onto the coffee table he tucked his feet up onto the floral upholstery and crashed out. Hours passed, and a burning in his lower abdomen made him sit up, a headache settling behind his eyes. Parched, he fixed himself a glass of water and then headed to the bathroom. The apartment was still, save for the gentle groaning of the pipes in the ceiling and the whir of the washing machine in the kitchen. Taehyung used the toilet quickly, eyes watering from the pounding of his head. He had to grip the cistern to avoid falling into the bathtub. Washing his hands, he pulled open the door of the bathroom to find Jennie standing there, groggy from sleep. She smelled like lotion and perfume, and it was enough to make Taehyung feel intoxicated all over again. She brushed past him, hands lightly caressing his chest as she ducked into the room, closing the door behind her. Fuck. Get your shit together, he scolded.  
He was still roaming the hallway when she emerged, shooting him a puzzled expression.  
“Are you okay?”.  
At that moment, Taehyung closed the distance between them and cupping her face, he kissed her, letting his lips linger there a moment too long. Jennie snatched fistfuls of his shirt in her small palms and dragged him towards the bedroom. Taehyung walked her to the side of the bed and when she fell backwards he followed, fumbling with the straps of her camisole. A plump breast popped out and he devoured it without hesitation. Her skin was soft, warm to the touch. He could feel himself harden inside his pants and with Jennie’s help, his erect penis sprang free. Kicking the duvet to the floor, Taehyung yanked his jeans down further to his mid thigh, pulling Jennie’s legs wide to allow him to place his hips in the centre. Rising from her position on the bare mattress, Jennie fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, nimble fingers working fast. A calloused hand around her neck forced her back down onto the mattress, and taken by surprise, she let out an impressed gasp.  
“Stay there”, Taehyung commanded, exhaling loudly through his arousal, feeling his dick throb the harder it became. Stripping Jennie of her shorts and panties, he hauled her down to the edge of the bed and, with knees planted firmly in the carpet, Taehyung found her moist clit, the skin glistening with a delicious sheen as he proceeded to assist in the mounting of her orgasm, fluid seeping from the entrance the closer she got, upper body writhing with every whine that escaped her lips. He grinned when he heard her breath hitch, the pleasure visible on her face, sweat dotting her hairline and the space between her breasts.  
“Fuck me”, she whispered. Taehyung didn’t have to be told twice. Boring down on top of her, he rammed his tongue deep into her mouth, keen to make her taste her own orgasm on his tongue.  
With saliva on his chin, he slid his erection deep inside her vagina, the sensation of her tight walls around his shaft filling his brain with oxytocin. He had to fight the urge to cum then and there. With large, thrusting motions, Taehyung fucked Jennie roughly, taking hold of her neck with a strong hand the quicker his movements became, pinning her into the sheets for good measure. The wet slap of skin on skin made for a steady rhythm, and with one final grunt, Taehyung exploded, pulling his dick out of Jennie’s sex before ejaculating on the smooth plane of her navel. Feeling suddenly light headed, Taehyung dropped to his elbows, unable to get his breath back into his lungs. Jennie rolled onto her side, peeking at him through a curtain of dark hair. She touched his face with the back of her hand, offering water on the bedside table when she felt the heat emanating from his rosy cheeks. Taking a swig of the liquid, Taehyung removed the rest of his clothing slowly, erection deflating once the muscle relaxed, and unable to keep his eyes open a second longer, he lay back and allowed a deep slumber to drag him down into the depths of dreamland. 

*

“The child was found safe and sound”, Hoseok relayed, letting out a sigh on the other end of the line.  
“I’m glad. I’m not sure how many more resources we could have given to that case had it still been ongoing”.  
“Absolutely. Last night was good, no?”  
“God yeah, can’t remember the last time I was out for a drink since work got busy”.  
“Pity you didn’t stay longer”, Hoseok chided. “Yoongi climbed onto the bar stool and started singing”.  
Taehyung grinned. “Did no one help him down?”.  
“Pffft, no way”, Hoseok scoffed, “didn’t want to ruin the moment”.  
Taehyung clamped the phone between his ear and shoulder as a new email slotted into his inbox. It was from forensics. He typed back a response, shooting replies back to Hoseok down the phone as he did so. Commotion from the door made him glance up to see his boss stride towards his office. A few seconds later, a message shot up in the corner of the screen and Taehyung swiftly ended the call to Hoseok, all lightness from the conversation previous, dying instantly.

‘Is everything alright, sir?”  
‘No, detective, it isn’t”.  
Taehyung sat down in the chair facing Lancaster’s desk.  
‘What’s happened, sir?”  
‘I told you to stop investigating the Somin Jeon case”.  
‘Sir, I..”  
‘Why didn’t you follow my orders?”  
Taehyung cleared his throat. ‘With all due respect, sir, I may have found a crucial lead in this case that I have yet to follow up on”.  
‘I don’t give a shit”, Lancaster spat, ‘you have blatantly defied my command and if you continue to carry out this investigation then I’ll have no choice but to suspend you from duty”.  
‘I don’t think this case was handled well at the time, sir, and I would like the opportunity to follow up on my leads, if that would be...”  
‘You have no leads, detective”.  
‘I think I do”.  
‘I’m not paying you to think”, Lancaster said, ‘We make decisions based on cold, hard facts here, that’s it”.  
‘And I have the facts to build a coherent case file, if you’ll just give me the chance”.  
‘What, you think this is a one man job? You think you’re beyond any kind of assistance, is that it?”.  
Taehyung shifted his feet, choosing his words carefully. ‘I’m doing this as a favour for someone”.  
‘Favour or not, I am not allowing you to continue any sort of investigation on this case, and that is my final order”.  
‘But I have evidence, sir”.  
‘Oh, is this what you’re referring to?”.  
Frustrated, Lancaster pulled open the top drawer in his desk and flung the evidence bag with the keys to apartment 29 in it down in front of Taehyung. Taehyung grimaced. Lancaster adjusted his glasses, eyeing up the item with a sneer tugging at the corner of his lips.  
‘As I’m sure you’re aware, detective, the suppression of evidence is a serious offence”.  
Taehyung was lost for words. ‘I was hiding it until I had something more concrete to work with.”  
‘Bullshit. You were hiding it because you knew that what you were doing was something I didn’t authorise and you assumed I wouldn’t find out about it”.  
He wasn’t incorrect in that assumption. Taehyung’s palms grew sweaty. There was no viable excuse for what he had done, and he knew it.  
“Her therapist filed a complaint against you, you know”. “What?”. “He wasn’t impressed with the ludicrous accusations you made about him”. “The man is suspicious, sir”. “You don’t know anything about him, detective”. “I was following a hunch”. “In future, you’ll follow my orders and nothing else, okay? If you want to keep your job that is”. “Yes sir”. ‘I warned you about Jennie Kim, didn’t I?”, ‘Jennie Kim is innocent, sir”.  
Lancaster scoffed. ‘And you know this because..?”  
‘Because she had no motive”.  
‘That’s not enough to clear her of suspicion”.  
‘I know that, sir, but my instinct is telling me otherwise”.  
‘Oh, it’s your instinct this time huh?”  
‘Yes. If I can pursue this new lead, then I will be able to present a clearer picture of what happened to Somin Jeon and bring her killer to justice”.  
‘No, you do not have my authorisation to do so”.  
‘If I’m wrong, then I will stop looking into this case once and for all”.  
‘You will stop now”.  
‘Sir, I can’t do that”.  
‘Let me make the decision easier for you, then”, Lancaster jeered, ‘you either drop this case now, or I permanently discharge you of all duties, effective immediately”. 

**

Jennie leaped over a fallen log on the ground, shoes sinking in the saturated earth as she sprinted through the woodland, branches and twigs whipping at her face and tearing at her hair as she dodged sycamores and bushes. Her skin itched and when she touched the affected area her fingers came away red, and damp. A viscous liquid. With heart drumming in her ears, Jennie hurtled towards the clearing, relief flooding her tense body as she spotted a way out, freedom. As she drew closer to the clearing, a door appeared, a heavy one, seen in buildings where fire could be a potential hazard, and with her pursuer hot on her heels, she hit the door hard, vanishing into a white void on the other side, the door flickering in the corner of her eye as the mirage dissipated from sight. 

A sharp gust of wind startled Jennie awake, the icy chill slicing into her exposed flesh like a hot knife through butter. Turning round, she saw that the door she had just come through was the fire exit on the ground floor of the apartment building. There was a large, jagged crack in the centre of the glass. Floodlights glared down on her, and above she could see the silhouettes of the other residences milling about in their own apartments, not a care in the world. Envy reared it’s ugly head deep inside her gut, and she was angry at the visible representation of safety and security these strangers had within the confines of their own homes, something she could not relate to. Glancing upwards, teeth rattling against her jaw, Jennie could see the rows of balconies jutting out at regular intervals into the sky. She could see her own, the light from inside casting the balcony in shadow. Her clothes felt wet against her skin, and taking one hesistant look down at herself, she let out a shocked yelp. Her clothes were stained with blood, black patches spreading out across her T-shirt like a disease. Her hands were crimson. Where did this come from? What happened to the forest? Who was chasing her?  
Her eyes cut to the damaged partition in the fire exit door and she knew she’d have to come up with an explanation in the morning. The landlord won’t be impressed. A flowerpot shattered on the tarmac at Jennie’s feet and panicked she threw a wary eye upwards at the part of the building obscured by gloom. There, on Somin’s balcony, stood a figure, clad in black, and Jennie was unable to decipher between what was shadow and what was head, shoulders and arms. When she returned to her own apartment and locked the door, she called the police, frantic that her pursuer from the nightmare had found their way into Somin’s apartment and was proceeding to terrorise her from in there. Haunted by the nightmares of the past two nights, and feeling like there was still a huge gap in her memories, Jennie didn’t sleep a wink, and when dawn descended on the city and filled her bedroom with natural rays, she was woken by a loud banging on her front door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive the messed up dialogue between Taehyung and his boss, there was a moment where it went a little arseways and I can’t for the life of me fix it 😬 it won’t happen again, but I hope it’s still relatively easy to follow x thanks


	11. Jennie/Taehyung

“Can we get forensics in here, please?”.  
Jennie pressed herself into the wall to make way for four tall men clad in biohazard suits and surgical masks to get past, giving them leeway to duck, in tangent, beneath the yellow crime scene tape and into Somin’s apartment. The landlord was standing to the side, looking on with a pinched expression, drumming his fingers on the folder stuffed under his arm anxiously. He didn’t meet Jennie’s gaze. There was no sign of Taehyung. His colleague, a serious man with a shock of orange hair did the rounds, pacing up and down the apartment and occasionally, the corridor outside, phone permanently placed against his ear. He didn’t acknowledge Jennie at all during the operation. From where she was standing, she could see forensics examine a puddle of blue liquid on and around the floor space near the living room. A younger officer, not much older than herself, approached her with a pen idling above an open notebook. He shot her a friendly smile. Dark hair and round eyes.   
“May I take your statement, please?”.  
Jennie complied, giving him the information he required in a calm tone, having been through the process before with Taehyung. The officer moved onto the landlord once he got what he needed. Jennie peered back into the apartment, watching the head detective engage in a conversation with one of the scientists, speaking in hushed tones. Nerves bubbled inside her stomach and she found herself walking up and down the same spot a few times just to give her feet something to do. When coffee was offered to her, Jennie didn’t say no. The caffeine in the hot drink relaxed her somehow, combatting the anxiety within like a weighted blanket. Static from the police radios crackled in the silence. Jennie was a quarter way through her coffee when the lead detective lifted the tape and planted a firm hand on her shoulder, steering her in the direction of the elevator, three officers falling into line behind them. Jennie held her coffee aloft., fearing she’d spill it and scald her hand as she stumbled her way into the elevator. She didn’t speak. A radio crepitated to her right and with a click the officer closest to her told the rest of the force to wrap it up quick. Taking a sip from her cup, she cleared her throat, and asked the detective where they were going.   
“The station”, he replied.   
“Am I under arrest?”  
“Not yet”.  
“Not yet?”.  
“This is just a precautionary measure right now, miss”, he said, voice smooth, “if you cooperate with us you’ll be free to go in no time”.

At the bureau, Jennie had her coffee confiscated and her pockets searched, much to her chagrin. Hands patted their way up and down her body, some lingering on her breasts and the curve of her ass as they did so. Her phone was taken, as were her keys and shoelaces. The detective from this morning watched on as the search progressed, dismissing the two junior agents with a wave of his hand once they had completed the procedure. He shoved Jennie inside a tiny holding cell and pulled the door shut, stepping back to allow a blue shirted chief slam a thick lock through the bolt and slide the key free with a flourish. To make some kind of point, Jennie assumed. With one final glimpse over his shoulder in Jennie’s direction, he left the room, followed by the rest of the occupants in quick succession. A single lightbulb swung from the peeling ceiling, and every so often it would flicker uncontrollably, as if trapped in some kind of electrical exorcism. As footsteps ebbed from the room, Jennie sat on the edge of the metal shelf that resembled a bed and hunched over, panic racing through her veins with every elevated heartbeat.   
Hours dragged by, and the grating sound of rattling metal was enough to stir Jennie from a broken sleep. She sat up, an ache rippling through her lower back as she did so. A man dressed in a charcoal grey suit and white hair scraped back into a neat combover stood on the other side of the bars, smirking in at Jennie as if she were an animal at the zoo. She stood, unsure of how to behave underneath the scrutiny.   
“Jennie Kim, right?”  
“Yes. I think there’s been a misunderstanding”, she said, “I’m not sure why I’m here”.  
“Well, you alerted the authorities to a break in at an apartment that showed no signs of a domestic disturbance at all?”  
Jennie frowned. “No signs?”  
“Nope. Not even blood. The apartment is clean”.  
“Impossible”.  
The man gripped the bars tightly, until the skin on his knuckles turned white.   
“I don’t know what kind of fucking games you’re playing, Ms Kim, but I should arrest your ass for wasting valuable police time and resources on imaginary situations”.  
“I saw someone on the balcony last night”.  
“You’re fucking crazy, you know that”.  
“What?”.  
The man cackled at her confusion.   
“You’re insane”, he repeated, “and I’m sick of you getting your claws into my indispensable agents time and time again”.  
“Are you talking about Taehyung?”.  
“He’s one of them”.  
“Where is he? I’ll talk to him”.  
He grinned, eyes narrowing to slits. “You won’t do shit. I swear, I’ll prove you made this whole thing up, trust me”.  
“I didn’t”.  
“We’ll see”.  
As he turned to go, Jennie ran to the bars, gripping the cold metal in rigid fingers.  
“Kim Namjoon”, she cried out to his receding back, “I found a picture on his desk that you might find interesting”.

*

The blue arrow on the screen told Taehyung that he had another 40 minutes left of his journey, and lifting his sunglasses down onto his nose, he gunned the engine, the vehicle roaring beneath his seat as he tore past another road sign, shooting a look at the time on the dashboard to assess his progress. The sky was dull, the clouds a mix of various shades of grey. When the rain fell, he flicked on the wipers and slowed down, allowing a stream of cars to whizz past before pulling into the flow, veering right to catch his exit just as it slid out of sight.   
Jennie’s mother’s house was situated on the outskirts of the next county over, a quaint little farmhouse isolated from the rest of the countryside with high, rolling fields expanding beyond the horizon.The pastures were occupied with a smattering of sheep and other livestock, acting as the house’s only defence against prying eyes. Taehyung pulled into the gravel driveway and swung the car up past the entrance with ease, coming to a halt outside the only barn at the back of the plot, red corrugated roof chipping at the corners. He got out of the car and approached the door, the sour stench of manure making him splutter as he banged on the door twice with his fist. He was regaining his composure just as the door swung open and an attractive woman gawped out at him, dark hair greying slightly at the ends. Taehyung flashed his badge. The woman invited him inside without a word. 

“Would you like some tea?”.  
Taehyung politely declined. He took a seat at the dining table, staring around the room as Mrs Kim bustled about the kitchen, the clang and scrape of cutlery providing a gentle soundtrack to the silence that descended on them. Taehyung placed his recording device on the table and turned it on, not wanting to miss a thing. Previously, Jennie’s mother had refused to be recorded when the idea was first proposed to her about this visit, and Taehyung respected her wishes, however, he didn’t want to miss a crucial piece of information and with time being of the essence he felt that what Mrs Kim didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt her.   
“How was the drive?”, Mrs Kim asked, taking the kettle off the hob.   
“Lovely, thank you”.  
“Not too much traffic?”.  
“Just the right amount for a Friday evening”.  
The walls of the living room were painted a canary yellow, and family photos were hung at intervals above the couch and then again atop the television and mantelpiece.   
“Did Jennie have many siblings?”.  
“No. Just one”.  
“A sister?”.  
“Yes”.  
“Can you tell me a bit about their relationship?”.  
“They fought a lot”.  
Taehyung hummed in response, getting to his feet to take a closer look at the people in the black and white photographs, hoping a clue to the mystery surrounding Jennie’s familial relationships would present itself. His eyes darted over images of her grandparents and of happier times when her mother and father were young and in love. Crossing to the television he spotted a more recent photo that depicted a teenage Jennie standing next to her father, with her mother in the centre and two other individuals, similar in Jennie’s age, he guessed, on the far right. He took the photo from the wall and pointed at the image with a stiff finger. Mrs Kim stood beside him, gnarled appendages gripping the handle of her mug like roots of a tree clinging onto the earth for dear life. Sadness marred her gentle visage.   
“Who are these people?”, Taehyung asked, tapping the frame.   
“The one closest to me is Jennie’s cousin, and the other is her twin sister, Gretchen”.  
Jennie never mentioned a Gretchen.  
“Did they get along?”.  
“No”.  
“Was the relationship complicated?”.   
“You could say that”.  
“What happened, Mrs Kim?”.  
Without a word, the woman moved to the couch and sat down, mouth downturned. She avoided Taehyung’s gaze. It was in that moment that Taehyung could see the obvious resemblance between mother and daughter. He joined her on the sofa, placing the photo on the glass topped coffee table out of respect.  
“Gretchen was a wretched child”, Mrs Kim began, “she used to berate Jennie constantly when they were younger, since she was the oldest twin. As a result, Gretchen was unpopular in school and that dislike went as far as to prevent her from forming healthy friendships with the mutual peers that she shared with Jennie during their teen years. She was often jealous of Jennie’s charisma and likability and it was this envy that ultimately ruined them for life, in my opinion”.  
“Did Gretchen harm Jennie?”.  
“Not physically, but emotionally, perhaps. Gretchen grew increasingly narcissistic as adulthood approached, and she was the type to refuse to let Jennie go anywhere without her, do anything she didn’t condone of, or to see and experience friendships and intimacy with anyone outside of their little twin bubble. Jennie did what she could to escape Gretchen’s clutches but when one of Jennie’s closest college friends had to be hospitalised because of something Gretchen did, it impacted Jennie deeply. I’ve always felt guilty for how their relationship turned out since I was convinced Gretchen was only acting out of scorn over the affair her deadbeat dad brought into the family unit”.   
At this point, Mrs Kim began to cry. Taehyung fetched her some tissue from the kitchen, a spike of shame cutting into his core at the notion that his inquiries may have indirectly upset such a meek being.   
“Take your time”, he said.   
Sniffling, Mrs Kim continued, “As a broken woman from the years of mental abuse their father subjected me to, I lashed out at the girls, and I know I gave Jennie a hard time due to my own unresolved sadness and anger, and if she never speaks to me again, I wouldn’t blame her”.  
“Is Gretchen still on the scene?”.  
“I believe she followed Jennie to Bayside to keep an eye on her, but I’m not sure of her current whereabouts as of right now”.  
“Did she ever send you letters?”.  
“No”.  
“Anything that might give me an idea of her location?”.  
Mrs Kim threw her eyes upwards in thought. Then she rose from the couch and vanished from the room. Moments later, she returned with an envelope in hand, an address scrawled across the back of it in messy, almost illegible, handwriting.   
Thanking Mrs Kim for her precious time, Taehyung jumped back into his car and peeled out of the driveway, the letter staring up at him on the passenger seat. 

The red dot on Taehyung’s phone screen vanished when he pulled up on a grassy bank in the middle of nowhere. He was closer to the city, much to his delight, but the motorway that would bring him back into the never ending hub of Bayside was still over an hour away. He consulted the address on the envelope once again, but if google maps couldn’t offer any assistance then he was at a dead end, in every sense of the word. To his left was an iron gate blocking the entrance to a vacant field and next to it was a small road, winding up the incline and out of sight. Putting the car in park, Taehyung grabbed his gun, badge and a torch from the glove compartment and clambering out onto the muddy grass, he started walking.   
A dilapidated house with boarded up windows came into view on his right halfway up the deserted path, and concealed beneath a tarpaulin in the driveway was a car, the fender speckled with dirt and clumps of earth. The absence of a gate made it easier for Taehyung to approach the veranda, shining his torch over the door and windows, the lack of light from inside causing his beam to reflect off the glass uselessly. Lowering his torch, he peered into dark, managing to make out the rough outline of a table and chairs before his eyes ached. Blinking the ache away, he did the rounds of the perimeter, trying the back door as a last ditch attempt at entering the premises. The door was unlocked, and with a hefty tug, the partition slid open and he crossed the threshold, keeping to the walls to prevent an attack, in case the house was occupied. With pistol held in his right hand and the torch in the left, he stepped into the living room, making mental observations as he went. There wasn’t much to remark on in terms of decor and furniture items. An ottoman stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the minimal scattering of an armchair and wooden delft cabinet. A single magazine and several newspapers sat atop the hassock. Swivelling round, Taehyung found the kitchen. It was just as unimpressive. Exhaling, he saw his breath mingle in the air, and it was only then that he realised the house was freezing cold. If anyone was living here, they’d die from hypothermia in at least 48 hours. Upstairs showed one bedroom, that was solely inhabited by a single mattress and some technical items, such as a laptop, a charger and some earphones, all of which lay haphazardly on the floor. The boards creaked beneath his weight as he walked to the closet, pulling it open slowly, flicking through the clothes with disdain. Hanging in the back was a black hoodie, one that stank of body odour, smoke and cheap deodorant. Taehyung pulled it off the hanger and held it aloft, sharp eyes searching for a hint of blood, a hair, or even a scent reminiscent of something a female would wear. Nothing unique stood out to him and so he discarded the hoodie to the ground in frustration. Back in the hallway, he spied a secondary room down the end of the house, and after two unsuccessful attempts at shifting the door open, he gripped the knob tightly, torch dangling perilously from his mouth, and with his shoulder braced at an angle in the centre of the wood, he used brute force to get the jamb to give way. He tumbled into what appeared to be a makeshift art studio, with canvases of all sizes stacked against the far wall and two monstrous easels taking up space nearest the window. Taking his torch from his mouth, Taehyung moved to the window, frowning when his view was obstructed by a massive plank of wood that ran the height of the small space. Pushing it to the side with more effort than he was willing to lend, he tore down the cardboard cover and gazed out at the driveway and the fields below, spotting birds soar past in a V shape in the colourless sky. The tall grass near the fence in the bottom left stirred in the breeze. When he didn’t see anything of concern, he turned to go, and that’s when an unmistakable flash of black shot out of his peripheral vision. Staring out the window one last time, he spotted a figure sprinting towards the opening in the driveway, shoes crunching on the gravel. They tossed a cigarette to the ground as they ran. Taehyung wasted no time in hurtling down the stairs and outside, giving chase immediately. His long legs ate up the ground, and when his evader managed to put significant distance between them he halted, lifted his gun and aimed a bullet inches ahead of them, watching the dirt spray up at their feet once the bullet hit the ground, and with a shriek, the black clad figure lost their footing and collided with the bushes, disappearing into the shrubbery like a star in a black hole.


	12. Taehyung/Jennie

The person sitting opposite Taehyung was an individual who, he assumed, had seen the most unpleasant side of life more than they should have. Gretchen’s cheeks were hallowed, either by self inflicted malnourishment or genetics, he wasn’t sure. The former seemed more plausible. Her cropped, black hair, haphazardly cut into a short quiff style stuck out from beneath her hood like twigs from a bird’s nest. Her hands were hidden between her knees but the visible raised flesh of scar tissue on her pallid wrists was hard to ignore. Taehyung tried to find Jennie in her face, but the years of isolation and suspected substance abuse etched into Gretchen’s features made it difficult to do so. Taking a seat on the ottoman, Taehyung fixed his gaze on the fragile woman in front of him and, with the recording device on and ready to go he began the interrogation.  
“How long have you been stalking Jennie?”.  
“It’s hardly stalking if you’re family, right?”  
“You know what I mean”.  
“I was only looking out for her”.  
“That’s not what your mother told me”.  
Gretchen rolled her eyes. “My mother is crazy, so if I was you, I would take everything she says with a pinch of salt”.  
“Is she wrong?”.  
There was a pause. Gretchen scratched at her wrists, nails digging into the minefield of bumps and lacerations as she mulled over her response.  
“No, she isn’t”.  
“What’s your definition of ‘looking out’ for somebody?”  
“It means doing whatever it takes to ensure that your loved ones don’t get hurt”.  
Her voice cracked as she spoke. Taehyung found himself staring past her, finding this just as challenging as she did. Why, he didn’t know.  
“Did Jennie know you were simply looking out for her?”.  
“I don’t think so”.  
“You watched her from afar?”.  
“Yeah”.  
“Why not approach?”.  
“If you’ve spoken to my mother, you know why”.  
“What about this friend of Jennie’s, the one that ended up in the hospital?”.  
Gretchen cracked a smile. “He had it coming”.  
“You’re proud of what you did?”.  
Her lips stretched into a sinister grin, and despite himself, Taehyung felt on edge. In the dimness of the room, the objects surrounding him fell into shadow, and Gretchen’s hunched figure wasn’t an exception.  
“If you knew the whole story, you’d know that I was the hero, not the villain”.  
“Why don’t you tell me the whole story then?”.  
“I thought you wanted to talk about Jennie?”.  
“We are talking about Jennie”.  
The armchair groaned as Gretchen shifted in her seat.  
“His name was Jiyong”, she began, “he was harassing Jennie for a long time during our school years, refusing to take no for an answer, the sick fuck. One day, I found him with his hand up Jennie’s skirt, and the fear in her eyes is something I’ll never forget. So, after school, I broke into the janitor’s closet, found a hammer and I attacked him behind the bike sheds, hitting him several times until I drew blood”.  
“Did he stop harassing Jennie after that?”.  
“Well, he was in the hospital, so yeah”.  
“Did Jennie thank you?”.  
“Hell no”, Gretchen scoffed. “She blamed me for it, said I was ‘ruining her life’ and whatnot. The incident didn’t go down well with the school or my mother”.  
“Did your mother punish you?”.  
“Obviously. She had her own issues, so I didn’t hold a grudge”.  
A pause.  
“I’d do it again in a heartbeat if it meant protecting my sister, no fucks given”.  
“I see”.  
Taehyung pulled a photo of Somin Jeon up on his phone and handed it to Gretchen.  
“Have you seen this woman?”  
“No”.  
“Look again”.  
“I said no”.  
“How many times have you been in Jennie’s apartment?”  
“To imply how many times means you think I’ve already been there?”.  
“Have you?”.  
“Once”.  
“When?”.  
“Last week”.  
“Why did you go there?”.  
“To see her”.  
“That all?”.  
“Well, yeah? Why else would I go there?”.  
“Have you ever visited her in the night?”.  
“No? Only during the day, when I know she’s at work. I don’t want her to see me”.  
“So you’ve never been to her apartment at night? Nor have you seen or met Somin Jeon?”.  
“No, no and no”.  
“You sure?”.  
“Yep”.  
“What about the night of the 25th?”.  
“I was working”.  
“Where do you work?”.  
“The Sage Bar and Grill”.  
“So, when I follow up on that, your manager can vouch for you?”.  
“Yeah”.  
Gretchen lit a cigarette, exhaling slowly.  
“How often do you work?”.  
“Two nights a week at most”.  
“And you live all the way out here?”.  
“Not all the time”.  
“Where do you live when you’re working?”.  
“I couch surf with work friends”.  
“So no permanent address?”.  
“Nope”.  
“Get your things”, Taehyung said, “I’m going to have to bring you in for further questioning”.

*****

“You’re free to go”.  
Jennie stood up on shaking legs, neck and back protesting at the action involved in keeping her body upright. It was safe to assume she hadn’t slept all night, and that was evident in the dark circles under her eyes and pale complexion. The detective with the orange hair was standing outside the cell, chewing on his nails. Jennie yawned, and the severity of it made her dizzy. Her stomach growled, but she couldn’t find it within her to ask for food. She’d eat when she got home. The door slid open with a deafening clang, and she stepped out into the room in a calm fashion, not wanting to do anything that would merit another stint in that terribly small cell. She took back her belongings with vigour, signing off on them once she was satisfied that everything was returned to her in one piece. The door to the room clicked open, and in walked the man from the other day, clad in the same grey suit and shit haircut. He had his hand around the arm of an individual dressed in a black hoodie and when Jennie recognised the person in question her heart dropped into her stomach. Taehyung trailed in behind them and Jennie found the act of suppressing the betrayal she felt at the sight, impossible. Gretchen stared back at her with an indecipherable expression on her weathered face, and the rage that surmounted in Jennie’s gut exploded in a torrent of expletives and irascible tears. Gretchen said nothing as Jennie screamed and cried, lunging for her sister with fists in the air. She was swiftly apprehended by the two officers in charge and escorted from the room, her wails echoing down the hall as she was carted away.  
Taehyung chased her outside, and managed to catch up to her on the steps of the bureau, taking hold of her arm and spinning her round to face him, desperate to try and make her understand that Gretchen’s presence was part and parcel of the investigation. Jennie busied herself with her overcoat, staring, teary-eyed out at the restless street across from the building.  
“Why did you bring her here?”, she choked.  
“I was doing my job, Jennie”.  
“You should have warned me”.  
“I can’t tell you anything about the investigation, as much as I’d like to. It goes against procedure and I’m already on thin ice as it is”.  
“You talk about all these procedures but you cops are all the fucking same”, she snapped, “as long as your ass is covered it doesn’t matter a shit how your actions impact other people”.  
“That’s not true at all, and you know it”.  
“It is true”.  
“Need I remind you that I went to all this trouble for you? I’m starting to think I shouldn’t have bothered”.  
“Yeah, maybe you’re right”.  
“And then what? You’d be happy not knowing the truth of what happened, is that it?”  
“I didn’t know Somin personally, so it makes no difference to me”.  
“I don’t believe a word of that”.  
“Believe what you want”.  
“I want to help you, Jennie, I do, but you’ve got to let me do what I need to do”.  
“I didn’t ask you to help me so stop acting like you’re doing me some huge fucking favour”.  
“Arent you the least bit curious? Don’t you think you’ll sleep better at night knowing that all of this will end soon?”.  
“No”.  
“Jennie, come on..”.  
‘If my family have to be involved, then I don’t want it to go any further”.  
‘You’re being irrational, Jennie”.  
‘Whatever”.  
‘I can’t just halt the investigation now, in the middle of it”.  
“Well, I’d like you too”.  
“It’s too late”.  
“I’m not assisting you in this any more”.  
“Why didn’t you tell me about Gretchen?”.  
“Because I didn’t want to get into it”.  
“Didn’t you think it would have been relevant?”.  
“No”.  
“Well it would have been nice to know that there was someone in your life who had ill intentions for you from the beginning. Why you didn’t tell me about her sooner, I’ll never know”.  
“It wasn’t Gretchen, I’m sure of it”.  
“She admitted to being in your apartment, Jennie”.  
“I don’t care”.  
“You do”.  
“Gretchen isn’t the person I’ve been seeing in my nightmares and she is NOT a killer, okay?”.  
“How do you know?”.  
“Despite our differences, she’d never harm me”.  
“You don’t know that for sure though”.  
Jennie fixed Taehyung with narrowed eyes. Hands in pockets, she stepped closer to him, brazen in how she held his gaze, brows knitted into a deep frown. A glassy tear beaded in the corner of her right eye.  
“I know her better than you do, so don’t you dare patronise me”.  
“Show me the facts then?”.  
“The facts are that she’s innocent and you know it”.  
She was right, but Taehyung had to be certain.  
“Well if so, then she’ll be released tomorrow morning”.  
“I hope so”.  
“I know that you and Gretchen had a hard time growing up...”.  
“You don’t know anything”.  
“Why do you care all of a sudden?”.  
“Because she’s my sister”, Jennie replied, “we’re blood”.

The Sage Bar and Grill was located on the rougher side of the city, and Taehyung did what he could to remain inconspicuous. Dressed in a shirt, leather jacket and dark jeans, he parked around the corner from the bar and skipped across the road towards the throngs of people queuing to get in. He bustled his way to the front, showing his badge to the bouncer in lieu of an ID, and with a nod of affirmation, he ducked into the dimly lit foyer of the bar, refusing to leave his jacket in the cloakroom. Using his badge again to surpass having his hand stamped, Taehyung entered the bar with his mind focused on the mission at hand. High tables with matching stools circled the large floor space in the centre, and he had to go wide to avoid bumping into people on his way to the bar. The music pounded relentlessly in his ears. The cacophony of voices merging into one loud orchestra above the din of the music made it impossible to hear his own thoughts. At the bar, he ordered a whiskey on the rocks and slid onto a vacant stool, doing a quick sweep of the building from top to bottom. A wrought iron staircase behind the DJ booth spiralled upwards to another part of the building, and upon closer inspection, a sign indicating towards the toilets told him they were up the stairs and to the right. A song with a strong, EDM beat blared through the speakers, and it was met with a myriad of shrieks and yells as the dance floor swelled with drunken bodies. Taehyung paid for his whiskey and took a sip, the earthy, bitter taste shooting up into his sinuses as he swallowed. Staff whizzed around him, pouring drinks, wiping the bar down and putting orders into the till, all while pumping food and alcohol out to customers with remarkable efficiency. The crash of bottles landing in disposable bins rang out at certain intervals during the night. Placing his phone down in front of him, Taehyung opened his chat to Jennie. She hadn’t replied to any of his messages since their tense conversation earlier that day. He had stuck around briefly for Gretchen’s interrogation, but decided to continue his sleuthing spree by following up on her alleged working schedule, keen to clear her name as soon as possible, more so for Jennie’s sake than anything else. Swilling the whiskey and ice around his glass slowly, he flagged down one of the waitresses and asked to speak to her manager. To his dismay, the manager wasn’t available.  
“Maybe I can help you with your inquiry?”, she said.  
“That would be great”, Taehyung replied, “do you know a Gretchen Kim? She works here two nights a week?”.  
“Yes I do. She stays with me on the weekends. What about her?”.  
“Do you know if she was working the night of the 25th?”.  
“Yeah she was. We were both on that night”.  
“Ok”.  
“Anything else?”.  
“No, you’ve been so helpful already, thank you”.  
“Another drink, at least?”.  
“Sure”.  
The waitress left him to his own devices after that.  
A hand on his shoulder made him look up from his drink to see a pretty, dark haired woman staring back at him, collarbones on show in an off the shoulder blue top and black pencil skirt.  
“Tae?”.  
“Irene?”.  
“It’s so good to see you”.  
Taehyung couldn’t say the same.  
“What have you been up to?”, Irene asked.  
“Working. You?”.  
She tossed her dark hair over her shoulder.  
“Looking after Jackson and moving into a new house. The usual day to day stuff”.  
“How is he?”.  
“Fine. He misses you, you know?”.  
“Well, you won’t let me see him, so, what can I do about that?”.  
“Ah, you don’t need to see him, since you’re so busy with work”.  
Taehyung felt anger roil in his gut.  
“You know that’s not fair, Irene”.  
“Isn’t it?”.  
‘No. You chose to leave me, not the other way around”.  
Irene turned her back to him, sipping her white wine in a nonchalant fashion, doing everything she could to ignore Taehyung’s pleading gaze. Subtle wasn’t a skill of hers.  
“I did what was best for Jackson, and you know it”.  
“He’s my son too, Irene”, Taehyung griped. “You can’t keep him from me”.  
Before she had a chance to respond, a man approached them, and placed a protective hand on Irene’s hip. His rings glinted in the glow of the lamp that hung above the three of them, casting an unflattering spotlight down on the mess that was unfolding in front of Taehyung’s eyes. Irene took her wine glass and moved away from the bar without a word. The man she was with followed suit.  
A whiskey appeared before Taehyung as if by magic and he was grateful for the release. Taking a gulp of the chilled liquid, he fired his boss a quick text message, demanding that Gretchen be released in the morning with a restraining order and a firm warning to stay away from Jennie for the foreseeable future. Once he pressed send he downed the rest of the drink, and left the bar. 

*********

Jennie pushed the heavy doors to the entrance of Queen’s apartments open and stepped into the foyer, shaking the rain off her woollen beret as she did so. Drying her feet on the mat, she crossed the room in the direction of the elevators, the events of the day weighing heavy on her shoulders. It felt like her day at the primary school wouldn’t end and after seeing Gretchen again for the first time in almost a decade, her mind was a mix of anger, sadness and confusion. The elevator dinged once it reached the ground floor and once the doors slid open she stepped inside, hitting the button for her floor with vigour. As the doors began to close, an arm jammed them open again, and it caused the elevator to jar slightly on the spot. When there was enough space for a person to get through, an individual dressed in an oversized hoodie, jacket and denim jeans got on, face concealed beneath a cap and long dark hair. The elevator shot upwards, whizzing past the floors with speed.  
“What’s your floor?”, Jennie asked the stranger, having noticed they didn’t make a move towards the panel since getting on board. They didn’t reply. Jennie repeated the question, words laced with irritation.  
The individual jerked their head towards her, and in the blurred reflection in the elevator doors, Jennie caught a glimpse of a face she’d never forget. Once realisation and fear dawned on her, it was too late. The stranger shoved her against the side of the elevator with commendable force. Jennie raised her arms to avoid getting her face coshed on the gold embossed ridging that lined the walls of the elevator but it had little effect. Just as she was regaining her composure, the stranger took a hold of Jennie’s neck and proceeded to smash her head into the panel with menace. Jennie could taste copper on her tongue. With one final exertion of energy they tossed her slack body to the ground. Jennie’s brain rattled around in her skull at the abuse. She knew she had lost her bag and phone in the altercation. The ding of the elevator halting at her floor echoed in her mind. With hazy vision, she tried to get to her feet, but to no avail. She spotted her assailant dashing out of the elevator once the doors slithered open, and the one name Jennie wanted to cry out died on her lips once they disappeared down the hall and out of sight.


End file.
